Weird
by A Shadow Rose
Summary: Mystic Falls is a weird place; we can all agree on that. What happens when a normal human girl makes friends with one of the Originals? She'll be sucked in, and her life will change forever as she is plunged into the supernatural world revolving around Mystic Falls. ElijahXOC, rated for language & maybe more later on! Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I know this is short, but bear with me, please. But it does mean that you get...**

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><p>Everything is weird in Mystic Falls. I've only moved here recently- well recently being almost three years, but I've still been around long enough to see the changes. And it's weird how everything started when Stefan Salvatore first came to Mystic Falls. I say <em>first came <em>as he said he was born here, but raised elsewhere.

He arrived at the start of term, but six months after me. I was _definitely _glad- it meant that I wasn't the new kid anymore. He was good looking, smart, mysterious and charming; he was destined to fit in with the popular crowd. And he did.

But just after he came, there was the animal that attacked Vicki Donovan at that party, but no one heard or was hurt by it. She was lucky though; it had been attacking and killing hikers all through the summer as well. Gave me a good reason not to join Mike on one of his _nature appreciation thing. _I didn't really like Vicki, but she didn't deserve to be attacked. She was a druggie, one of the stoner kids at school, loners just like me, but at least they had each other. I felt bad for Matt, he was always nice to me, and always had to care for his little train wreck sister. Then she left, skipping town and was never seen or heard from again.

A week or so later, Mr Tanner was killed by the same animal that attacked Vicki and those hikers. Sometimes I feel bad that no one mourned his death, but then I remember that D he gave me for History, and I stop feeling bad. Then it was Logan Fell and Zach Salvatore that bit the dust. He was a news anchor, and was one of my neighbours, living a few doors up. And Zach was always nice, quiet even, but not like me. He liked to keep to himself. Why would anyone want to kill him?

After that, Mayor Lockwood had some kind of breakdown and started screaming at the Founders' Day Celebrations, before being carried off and later pronounced dead. Mason Lockwood, who passed through town then disappeared a few weeks later, and then Tyler leaving town. Even Elena Gilbert, Mystic Falls golden girl started acting weird, like she was bipolar, being _nice-ish _like I know her to be one minute, and then full on mean girl the next.

There was also the explosions at the Grille, which is odd because I don't think that they were that slack on safety regulations, considering their boss was so OCD about everything. Seriously, in his office, all his pencils were sharpened, pens right way up, all of them. Even Jenna Sommers died, the Gilbert's aunt that was always nice to me whenever we met... Despite my own weirdness.

More and more people are moving to Mystic Falls. In every other place on the planet, that is perfectly normal, but for this small town, it's strange. When Mike and I moved here, we were the first in about seven years. _Seven. _And then suddenly, Stefan Salvatore and his older brother move to town, and Mr Saltzman after Mr Tanner died, but I don't mind him. Then it was this girl I sometimes see in the library, I think her name is Anna. She moved here with her mum. And Luka and his dad, but they moved away again a few months after they came.

I know that people change over time, but... It just feels weird, at least to me. Though, maybe I'm being hypocritical, considering how much of a freak I am, but I feel like something's happening in this town and only Elena Gilbert and her gang know what it is.

Wow... Sounds almost like a conspiracy.


	2. Chapter 2

**... Two! I'm posting (hopefully) every week! Leave a review, maybe a favourite if you like what you read. Or even if you don't- all constructive criticism welcome!**

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><p>My alarm's ringing. It's one of those really annoying high pitched sounds that you have to get up to turn it off. A new morning, a new day and a new school year. Fun, fun, fun. Mike is probably already up, drinking coffee laced with bourbon. I think that's his alarm clock- his brain tells him it's time for more alcohol and he gets up for it.<p>

Just like I thought, he's awake, sat at our rickety kitchen table, taking deep sips from whatever's in that mug. Sometimes, I'm too scared to find out. "Senior today," he said I'm that deep rumbling voice that tells you about his smoking habits instantly. That, and the smell. "Why do we have to start back on a Thursday, of all days? And why are you so happy?" I know I sound like I'm whining, and I don't really like it. Mike chuckles. "Can I not be happy that you now a senior, and one year closer to graduating?" I looked him dead in the eyes. "People can, you can't." I muttered, listening to him laugh as I reach down for my bag and an apple from the table. He reached up, placing a kiss on my temple and I go.

Most seniors drive to school or take the bus, but that's mainly for Sophomores and Freshmen. I walk. One of the many reasons why I am weird. It just clears my mind and helps me to wake up. I don't live that far from school, it's about a thirty minute walk. _Hopefully, this year will be different_, I think to myself. But it probably won't be. You say it anyway. Hopefully, my grades will go up this year. Hopefully, I will make some friends this year. Hopefully, I will become more fit this year, and I'm not talking about the occasional round of jogging, or ice-skating, or surfing because I live in Virginia.

There are some good things about this year. I have History first thing. I quite like history- no, really. I guess I like how in hindsight, you can see the changes, and all of their warning signs. Like the French Revolution. 1789- 1799. At the time, there were a lot of problems like poor harvests but high taxes. This led to famine and peasants rising up against the Aristocrats and King Louie XVI. In hindsight, the whole thing might not have happened if taxes had been lower and food was cheaper. Louie might've got to keep his head.

I'm off topic, aren't I? Sorry, I don't have much practice in communication. I've only just gotten to school, and teenagers are milling about in little groups. I don't have a little group to go to. Instead of meeting people, I watch them, which sounds _incredibly_ creepy. It means I can see Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennett over by the parking lot, all walking towards the main building. They all look... Glum, for some reason. Maybe it's to do with the reason why Stefan Salvatore isn't with them?

Then across from them is Matt Donovan, sat in his rusty blue truck. I say that like I have a better car when I really don't. Compared to my car, Matt is driving a Ferrari. I can also see he is talking to himself, which seems weird. Tyler runs over to his car, banging on the glass and the two walk in together. "Sarah," Tyler smirks when he walks past, and I duck my head. Matt sends him a look and nods his head at me and I return to gesture. Matt's one of the few jocks, and people, that doesn't make fun of me. I wouldn't say I was bullied not quite outright, but I'm the loner kid in school. There are _Sophomores_ that make fun of me because they can. But like I said, hopefully things will be different.

Bells ring out, and then everyone starts shuffling inside. As I go, I see Caroline has already been at work, plastering flyers for the Bonfire tonight everywhere. Mike wants me to go, but I'm not too sure. By the time I make it to History, almost everyone has arrived And I quickly take mine, not wanting to stand out too much. "You're in my seat," a voice says behind me and I turn to see Stefan Salvatore shunting a guy out of his chair. He grins at Elena who looks horrified and then looks at me, as if to say _Got a problem?_ No sir, I most definitely do not. I don't have that much experience with him, apart from the odd hello in the corridor, but it's only him speaking. Even though it's like he's had a personality change over the summer. Maybe he thinks being a dick is a good idea for a senior.

"Welcome back Seniors." Mr Saltzman's voice booms from his desk and I look up at him from my notebook, before looking back down. We've managed to make a strange agreement involving me, talking in his classes and doodling, and in return, I do the work and my grades don't slide. It works perfectly for me. I just need to work on turning Dr Young from the science department into the relaxed history teacher as well. I might start enjoying Physics then. "Let's turn our brains back on, starting with this country's original founders- the Native Americans." He turned back to the board.

"What about the Vikings?" Everyone turns to see a new girl at the door, but she doesn't seem fazed by the attention. She has long blonde hair, long legs and clothes that just scream money. Coupled with her confidence, it's easy to see where she will sit in the social hierarchy of school. Mr Saltzman looks shocked as she waltzes past, taking a seat at the desk next to me, dropping her gold bag to the floor, resting her elbow on the desk and her hand under her chin.

Mr Saltzman regained his composure. "Well there's no evidence that Vikings actually settled in the United States. Who are you?" He asked, clearly annoyed that the new kid had managed to catch him off guard. She smiled at him. "My name's Rebecca. I'm new and history is my favourite subject." She was still smiling charmingly at him and the teacher nodded at her before starting on Native Americans. Most of the class though was still staring at Rebecca and she turned to me, raising an eyebrow with that smile that spoke of how she was better than me and I looked down at my textbook hastily.

Not the greatest start Sarah.

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><p>The new girl was a riot. Apart from History, my day went smoothly with double English, Physics with Dr Young which is definitely a misnomer. We were now both in Phys. Ed, but she was standing around with the cheerleading squad. Apparently as well, her name had a strange spelling, with a 'KAH' at the end, so her name's spelt 'Rebekah'. Also, she was smart and every boy agreed she was hot. Not only that but she was trying out for the cheerleading squad, especially since Dana hadn't shown up to school.<p>

The only person that seemed to be against her presence was Caroline Forbes. The two blondes were waring against each other, glaring daggers at the other. The cat fight for the top spot, the glorified queen bee position. Not that I know if it's glorified, I'm just guessing from watching too many stereotypical high school dramas. Not always by choice.

I, of course, was not involved in this, I'm not cool enough for the squad, and am I certainty not flexible enough. Nor am I a soccer girl, so I am running. Okay, that's a lie- I'm _jogging_. It's still something. Elena Gilbert is running ahead, but she's doing proper running. Usually, she sticks with her friends or the other cheerleaders but not here. It _is_ a new year though.

Stefan Salvatore joined her and Elena turned to go in the other direction. Guess they're having a fight. _Why on earth do I care?_ A small voice at the back of my head asked. It's weird and really annoying when the voices in your head have a point. Someone screamed and I looked up to see Elena staring at Stefan, towering over a guy in the ground, currently being helped to his feet by his friend. _That escalated quickly._ "Who are you?" Elena almost screamed at him, storming off while the Salvatore raised his arms, as if asking why she was mad. _You did just hit someone, jerk._ I shook my head. Summer changes people apparently.

All in all, not too bad. That is how I would rate my day. If your wondering this is generally what I think about on my way home. I don't really have anything else to think about. That, and chores. And any problems I'm having, which is a very long list. Basically, this is the pessimist thirty minutes of my day. Fun, fun, fun. I'm almost home though, so that's good. My house is a lot smaller than most. It has a tiny downstairs and an even smaller upstairs and generally looks like it could use a lick of paint... And maybe a bulldozer. But, in it's defence, it has it's perks. Like his personality, even if his insides are stuck in the 70s. He could do with a makeover.

My favourite place in my house, is the basement. We painted it just plain white when we moved in, turning it into a strange but pretty big place. There are a load of bright, multicoloured bean bags underneath the stairs, with a nice soft rug with a strange brown stain that we pretend not to notice, a reading lamp and a small precariously stacked pile of books. Sometimes, my laptop is down there as well, whenever I want to surf the web or something in a comfy place. Opposite is a massive pile of wood, most of it clean and good quality, others is stuff Mike collected himself. Above are rows of shelves with hand tools and jam jars filled with screws, nails and bolts. Dusty bottles sat amongst them, sometimes paint thinner, sometimes alcohol, you just had to guess. It reminds me of my dads basement, the layout is pretty similar. The middle of the room is mainly filled with junk, a few projects were mine, some camping equipment. A washing machine that was more cream than white, a dryer and two freezers stood alone along one section of wall, the most accessible spot and made sure the room was never silent.

Mike is outside, sat in our dingy garden in an old deck chair, a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other. This is what he does all day, every day. And he complains that I don't have a life. He argues that he's retired and the Grinch, so he doesn't need friends, and that I am not him. He is right. I am NOT Mike Adams. The silence is nice outside, like the world is patiently watching the afternoon sun in all its glory. "Heard down at the Grill there's some kind of a barbecue." Mike muttered, keeping his eyes cast downwards. I looked at him. "It's a bonfire and no, I'm not going." I said, and the old man huffed.

"You're young, you should be going out and having fun!" He argued and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "I have fun here! Plus, who am I going with or going to meet at that bonfire?" I retorted, watching a muscle jump in Mike's jaw.

"How about you go, for at least two hours and I never pester you about how much time you spend in that damn basement again." I bit my lip, it was a very tempting offer and Mike knew it, a victorious smirk hidden under his white moustache. I glared at him narrowing my eyes.

"You like doing this to me, don't you?" I grumbled, stalking back to the house, trying to ignore the old man' laughter and failing.

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><p>I hope that explains where I am- at this stupid bonfire. Don't get me wrong, I like the atmosphere at things like this, and no I'm not talking about the drinking games or the couples making out in what they think are deserted pockets of the forest. The sort of relaxing atmosphere, the one that promises fun and a good time. Well, for most people anyway. And before you ask, yes, I did make an effort. I'm wearing skinny jeans and a nice shirt, a few touches of makeup around my eyes and masking those few pesky spots on my forehead. I know I usually wear that to school, but I'm comfortable with that style. It's not like I've got anyone to impress.<p>

Almost everyone from school is here, drinking some kind of alcohol from red plastic cups, chatting with friends, dancing along to the music that floated through a load of different speakers scattered around. Almost everyone is in twos, or threes, or at least talking to other people. Except me... And one other person. Rebekah is here, not with any of her new cheerleading friends which seems weird to me. I thought she'd fit in with them perfectly, like the right piece in a jigsaw puzzle.

While I had been hiding amongst the trees, she'd sat down on a wooden bench by one of the smaller bonfires, roasting marshmallows and generally looking grumpy. Cautiously, like she was a wild animal, I sat down on the bench next to hers, glancing at her to see if she was going to shoo me away. She could probably do worse, but for some reason she didn't and I smiled faintly at her. The fire hissed and crackled, shooting cherry-red ash into the sky, letting it float gently to the ground. I liked fire; not in a pyromaniac kind of way, but in a way that I could watch it move and dance for hours on end.

The blonde on the next bench sighed angrily. "How is this fun?" She complained, pulling her branch and very burnt marshmallow out of the flames, glaring at the sugary treat Like it was evil. "I've been through ten of these."

I tried to hide a smile, failing. _Why is she talking to me?_ Part of me was curious. Then, it was like a movie moment, where the character hears inspiration from another character, who is usually dead at this point in the film. I am very glad that Mike isn't dead, but I kind of wish it was someone else's voice telling me to take the plunge. But I do it.

"You're not doing it right," I said quietly, a little surprised she heard me. Her head whipped around, obviously not thinking I would respond. Guess she's already heard of my nickname. I held out my hand for her stick which she passed hesitantly, as if she thought I would run off with it. Gently, I pulled off the marshmallow's burnt, cracked skin and gave it back to her. "You have to take off the skin for the gooey insides."

Rebekah pulled it off with her teeth, chewing a few seconds before swallowing, frowning a little. "Hmm... It does make it better," she said, a little grudgingly, looking at me suspiciously. I smiled again at her, this time she returned it sort of, in that half smile way.

"Then you can turn them into s'mores," I murmured, picking up a stick and a marshmallow of my own. The smile on the blonde's face melted like chocolate, replaced with another frown. _God, she frowns a lot and still looks great._ Part of me moaned but I ignored it, focusing on this opportunity I'd never really had before.

"S'mores?" She repeated dubiously. I nodded, frowning a little as well now. How did she not know about s'mores. _She's foreign, maybe they have a different name in England._ I didn't know if she was from across the pond but her accent sounded like she was. _Quick, do something!_ That little hamster on his wheel in the back of my head was rolling at a lightening pace.

"Yeah, you put the marshmallow between two graham crackers..." Rebekah was still staring at me blankly and I started to panic a little under her stare. I rescued my marshmallow from where I'd pretty much left it in the bonfire and shoved it in between two crackers and passed it to her. She took it gingerly, looking at me and I raised an eyebrow in that, _wanna try it? _Look. She bit into it and smiled brilliantly, in a way that everyone wanted to smile but no one actually could. "How haven't you had one of these before?" I asked her, a little amazed.

She stopped eating, looking at me and I drew back. _Shouldn't have said that Sarah_, I warned myself but suddenly, Rebekah's face changed, turning into a perfect sheepish smile. "I've been... hiding under a rock for a while." She said in that tone that implied it was an inside joke. I nodded slowly, a little creeped out by how fast she could turn.

It was silent between us for a while as I roasted another marshmallow, the blonde finishing off her first S'more. This time, she made one herself, as I decided against the crackers, going for just the gooey filler on its own. This felt... Nice. Companionable. Two friends eating marshmallows. Even though it actually wasn't. I decided to go out on a limb. "You know my dad used to put a bit of chocolate in s'mores as well... They tasted really good..." I smiled at the memory, not noticing that Rebekah also had a faraway look on her face as well.

"He sounds nice," She murmured, looking at me, snapping me out of my thoughts. _Why did you bring him up?!_ I gulped, glancing away.

"Not in practice," I mumbled quietly, knowing she wouldn't hear me but hoping she would drop the subject. Thankfully, she said nothing more. Around us, music blared and the voices of all our classmates mashed, becoming one ramble of noise, filling all the gaps and cracks in the empty spaces.

Rebekah cleared her throat. "Why are you being nice to me?" She asked, sounding pretty brave and curious and uncaring of my answer, but there was the tiniest of wavers that most people wouldn't catch. Most people that hadn't asked similar questions, that didn't have similar fears or similar insecurities. Her eyes were blue I realised, deeper and darker than mine, like sapphires instead of the light sky colour mine usually were.

I shrugged my shoulders a little. "You looked like you could use it..." I trailed off as her liquid sapphire eyes turned to stone, the warmth of the fire feeling chilly under her gaze. Before, I had seen the new girl, sat alone trying to roast marshmallows, that grumpy look a mask for what she actually felt, a mask similar to mine, though I usually used indifference or ignorance. I had wanted to comfort her, because I remembered how I felt three years, how I still felt now.

Now, I didn't see a new, lonely girl or even Rebekah, the girl that never had s'mores in her life until ten minutes ago. This person had her face but her eyes looked... Old. And angry. A combination that for some reason made me scared, terrified and I felt like trembling. Or squeaking. In any case, I turned in to a mouse, scrambling away frI'm the blonde I'd accidentally insulted like she was a predator. I vaguely remember bumping into a tall, dark-haired guy lurking behind a few trees that I think was Stefan Salvatore's brother, Damon. Usually you only saw him at the Grill, drinking at the end of the bar, not at high school bonfires, he was a little too old for that.

I managed to stumble out of the forest, down a gravel path, deciding not to call Mike and just walk home. There was a car park nearby sure, but he generally didn't drive for a reason and by walking home, I filled that two hour agreement. All I could think about was that one stupid sentence, and Rebekah's face shutting down like an old school computer. She was a cheerleader, for God's sake, a popular kid. What the hell was I thinking, getting myself into trouble like that? She could make my life hell for just that sentence! And she probably would.

_Why can I still smell the bonfire? _I thought, and I stopped suddenly. I could hear it as well. And I was too far away to be able to do either. And it was far too close for me. I could hear a guy, Mr Saltzman I think, screaming. My stomach dropped. _The parking lot._

An SUV was writhed in flames, the trunk door torn off, but I didn't care, too focused on the fire and the people. My history teacher was there, trying to reach in and he spotted me. "Sarah!" He yelled, and I jumped. I had two options; be a hero and help, or be a coward and run from the possibly exploding car. I knew that SUV was toast, as well as anyone too close, and I didn't want to be blown up for a box school books. Let them buy new ones.

Textbooks didn't move though, a dark shape stumbling in the backseat and I ran over to the burning car. Elena and Stefan were both inside. I reached in, grabbing Elena's arm while Mr Saltzman grabbed the other, pulling her out. Stefan was out of it, sluggish like he was drunk. I seized Stefan's arm, Elena reaching in to do the same and we pulled, probably neither of us realising how heavy he was until now. He stumbled when his feet hit the ground, eyes glazed over and bleary. "Hurry before it blows!" Mr Saltzman shouted over the noise of the fire.

Half dragging, a quarter carrying and a quarter stumbling, Stefan and Elena ran in front of Mr Saltzman and I away from the SUV. Just in time. There was a high pitched scream of protesting metal and flames shot into the sky, scraps flying everywhere. Heat met my back and I staggered forward, almost hitting Elena and every car's alarm went off._  
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We were all gasping for air, staring at the remains of the truck that would never run again. I fumbled and rooted around my pocket, eyes still glued to the automobile carnage. "Do you want me to call 911?" I asked, mainly focused on Mr Saltzman as I pulled my phone out. A hand shot out, holding my forearm tightly and I yelped in protest. I was turned to face Stefan, who was a lot stronger than I had realised, forced to look into his eyes.

"You don't need to do that," He said firmly and calmly, despite what had just happened. For some reason, the green on his eyes seemed more pronounced and his pupils dilated.

"No... I don't..." I said slowly, feeling a little confused. _Why would I suggest something like that?_ I wondered why I thought that, why I decided to open my mouth and say it out loud. I didn't notice Elena and Mr Saltzman shooting Stefan a funny look. "I'm gonna... Head home," I murmured and Elena looked at me sympathetically. Suddenly, she pulled me into a hug and I froze. "Thanks," she whispered and let go of me.

Mr Saltzman nodded, but kept his eyes on Stefan. "I think that would be best Sarah." He said quietly and I walked off, feeling confused, a weird twisting in my gut. Even from here, I could hear them shouting at one another, but not what they were actually saying. Probably about why they were in the truck to begin with. _Maybe they were... God, no wonder Mr Saltzman was angry._ I wanted to laugh at that thought. I might've of if I hadn't almost been blown up.

And Mike wonders why I don't go to these things.


	3. Chapter 3

**I have no idea why, but I'm in a really Vampire Diaries mood, y'know. I feel like I'm a little obsessed, watching all the episodes, reading nothing but ElijahXOC Fanfiction... Probably not that healthy, but so much fun.**

**Also, something to note about this story is that the length of chapters may vary. The TV show gives us all the information, I'm only trying to show the stuff that might happen to an outsider of the Elena Gilbert Gang.**

**BTW, thank you to _coveryoureyes, TotalGeek17, Lena Vitoria, BlackMoonWhiteSky _and _Akhkharu Kashshaptu _for the love you've showed. Please read, review, follow and favourite!**

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><p>It's been two days since the bonfire, the conversation with Rebekah and Mr Saltzman car exploded. Mike was actually impressed that I managed to stay at the bonfire for more than two hours but was maybe a little drunk when I got home. He's retired and not a mean drunk, so I don't tend to care. Actually, now that I think about it, his personality doesn't change when he's drunk. Might be because he always has alcohol in his system. Yeah, it's probably that. It is Saturday, around noonish and I am in a blue top that I have never worn before and half way up a stepladder, holding a dainty piece of string, stacked, sealed boxes by my feet.<p>

Carol Lockwood paid Mike to help make the paper lanterns for the Illuminations festival, so that is what I have been frantically doing since 8pm last night as he 'forgot'. I'll be honest, I may have gone overboard with some of them. I managed to make about fifty of the stupid things as Mike had already made the structures for they just needed filling in. Since the lanterns depend on the wiring, it is also partially Mike's fault for what we did. Most celebrations would want all regular, matching lanterns and they do match... to a sense. Some are circular, some are more rectangular, all have tissue paper decorations. Gentle colours like greens, blues, purples and pinks are usually the block colours, but some have... Cutouts. Hearts, flowers, spots, butterflies... Like I said, I got a little obsessed last night, sometime around 2am.

"As a long time member of the Historical Society, I am especially proud to be starting off this day of festivities. Thank you, volunteers." Carol Lockwood, Mayor of Mystic Falls, smiling the same smile all politicians do when faced with publicity. Funny word _volunteers_, as I was more... Roped in or forced rather than volunteer. Little bit annoyed the only thing I'm getting paid for is my one million and two paper cuts I got last night and sleep deprivation. I feel like I'm going to fall off this ladder. Sorry, sweet old lady with the flowery sun hat, I would suggest a change in route.

"Tonight, we turn off our town's lights and flare up our lanterns in honour of the Night of Illuminations, started by our founders a hundred and fifty years ago. Here is a Founding family member, Tobias Fell, with a history lesson." Polite clapping broke out in the small group gathered around the podium Mayor Lockwood was stood on and I froze. Flare up. Sadly, I stared down at the base of the ladder and the small green coil of wire sat on top of the boxes. _Fairy lights, why are you down there?_ I sighed, glancing at the lights then the string, following the trail that I had been working on for the past half hour.

I climbed back down, tugging the string with me, following it back to base, carrying the step ladder with me. That's a boat load of time and effort down the toilet, I thought to myself, ditching the string and unwinding the fairy lights. Screw the string idea, I'm more bothered about getting finished in time. _Apparently_, there are meant to be fifteen of us, but only five showed up this morning at eleven am. I was there, albeit a zombie version, but still me. So I am feeling a little stressed, as I am now expected to decorate the same amount ten people can. In a limited time period. Yay.

From my perch, I can spot a few familiar faces. Mr Saltzman and Jeremy are in front of me, listening to the lecture Mr Fell is giving. I like History... As long as he isn't teaching it. He can bore a class to death, seriously. It's like he tries with every class.

"What are we doing here?" Jeremy asked, crossing his arms, looking at my teacher. I haven't actually talked to him since the SUV incident, not that that's weird when I'm involved, but I just don't know what I would say to him. Do I pretend it didn't happen? Do I bring it up and have some freaky heart to heart? I don't know.

"Tobias Fell is the Head of the History Department. I didn't have a choice." Mr Saltzman hissed at him and Jeremy laughed. I smiled, knowing neither could see me, all three of us with our backs turned. "Alright, that explains what _you're_ doing here. What about me?" He sounded like he was grinning at the older man's misfortune.

"Well I am the one that can fail you if you don't help me out." I snorted at the history teacher's words. He turned, smiling kindly up at me. "Hey Sarah," Jeremy grinned at me brightly and I smiled back. I liked Jeremy Gilbert. Sometimes we would share a table in the library and all he would do is draw mythical creatures and monsters, where as I preferred life, people or landscape. He would chat to me like I was normal, like I would speak back the same way. Maybe one day I will.

Elena showed up, nodding at me and I ducked my head. She didn't like me that much, that hug she gave me was probably her in shock, as nothing changed in our polite stranger etiquette. They left soon after that, sitting leisurely outside the Grill, talking about whatever families talked about. I'd never had that, not properly. My dad was a man of few words and Mike was family, more a family friend, someone you could reply, but not talk about anything intimate.

I, and another volunteer decorated the entire plaza together, working for the next hour or so. We strung lanterns across the plaza and then around tree trunks, nestling a few in the trees themselves. For some reason, it was actually warm today, sweat dripping down my neck and back. We took lunch off, him heading to a little table with a girl I guess was his girlfriend and I walked into the Grill, sitting a few seats down from Mr Saltzman and Damon Salvatore. They were friends, I think, which seemed strange but actually made a lot of sense. The bartender already knew who I was, pouring me a cola with a lot of ice. it was like he was reading my mind.

"Thanks," I murmured, exchanging a few dollars for the drink, holding it near my head rather than actually drinking it. Mr Saltzman chuckled, looking at me. "Hot out?" He asked and I blew out a breath.

Something took his attention away, not that I cared to much. I was too busy trying to cool down, gulping down the ice cold drink, my teeth baring the brunt of this assault. I emptied it and put back down, hopping off my stool. As I walked past, Mr Saltzman and Damon were talking with another guy. Hmm, guess Mason Lockwood is back in town.

Outside had cooled in the fifteen or twenty minutes I'd spent inside and I walked down a side street, about to cross to see if all the lanterns had been hung yet. They should of and it then meant I could go home to sleep for a few hours. Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennett said they could handle putting tables, chairs and the refreshments table out. Something caught my eye and I turned, watching a blonde woman with a cool leather jacket slam Stefan Salvatore's head into a car window, cracking it. She wrinkled nose and looked up, noticing me.

"Sorry, he just... Really pissed me off." She shrugged like it was no big deal and I just stared at her opening and closing my mouth like a fish. "He's acting like a real dick lately, but he'll be fine, have a cracking headache, but fine all the same," she continued, and as if on cue, Stefan groaned and the girl grinned. She picked him up, walking away with him like he weighed nothing, which I knew wasn't true from Thursday night. _Did she just kidnap him?_ I asked myself. _Should I be worried? Does she even know him? She acted like she knew him. Stefan's a big boy, he'll be okay. Focus on today Sarah. Seriously, do it._

Another thing caught my eye instead. A box filled with lanterns, unopened and several trees un decorated, the ladder still propped against it. I wanted to scream. _I thought Caroline and Bonnie said they had this covered!_ "They needed to do something." I spun around to see Matt Donovan standing there, looking a little sheepish. "It was really important and I would offer to help in their places but I've got work at the Grill..." Guess he noticed the look on my face. _They left! What?!_

It was like the jock could hear my internal screaming match. "It was really important," he said earnestly, patting my shoulder before leaving as well. They knew we're short handed and they ditched us?! Who's going to finish the decorating and then the rest of the work they had taken!? _It's your job now_, a small voice reminded me. _But I want to sleep!_ I wanted to throttle those two. Murder the popular kids and go to jail for life, or be shot by the sheriff for killing her daughter. _You know what will happen if Carol thinks this day didn't go well._ I paled at that thought, staring at the boxes. They're taunting me now.

I've been awake for longer than I can count and I want to die. Instead of volunteering for two hours, I've been stuck here for about four more. After Caroline and Bonnie ditched us, one of the other volunteers had to go, having a dentist appointment, leaving the rest of the preparations up to me and a freshmen named James. Carol did let me leave eventually, after she'd seen the lantern decorations, under strict instructions to return by half seven for the ceremony itself. She didn't seem to mind that they weren't all uniform. _Oh, they're lovely,_ she had said, _they are perfect for tonight. Tell Mike he's out done himself._ I gritted my teeth and nodded, almost running away when I was dismissed, not wanting to lose any more precious time that could be used for sleep. _Wonder if that'll happen tomorrow and Bonnie and Caroline will get the credit for organising the rest of it?_ Just thinking about it made me bitter.

So, two and a bit hours later, I'm still tired and kinda grouchy but since I don't usually talk to people, it's okay. I have also just finished the last of the preparations, and added a few extra decorations- hopefully Carol Lockwood won't mind. I can see some familiar faces scattered throughout the crowd. Rebekah hasn't shown up, or I just can't see her, I don't know which. Probably the first one. Not many teenagers are here unless they've been forced to come. A hand on my shoulder makes me jump and I scowl when it turns out to be Mike. _Figures, nasty old man_. He's grinning, and I shake my head at him.

The loud voice of Carol Lockwood clearing her throat makes everyone jump, all turning to her on her platform. Most people have sat down on the little chairs I set out earlier, others crowding around like a protective shell. "Well, it seems that Tobias Fell has been detained so our very own Alaric Saltzman has agreed to take his place." People clapped as the history teacher walked up to the stage, the Mayor's eyes a little wide, the fake smile breaking at the corners for the change in plan. Hopefully the lanterns will make up for it.

Mr Saltzman grinned uneasily from the podium. "On behalf of the History Department: Light 'em up!" The crowd roared their approval as a switch was hit.

A gasp when up as everyone was shrouded in soft, gentle light. I think I did a good job, based on the reaction and I grinned almost as brightly as the lanterns. Patches of pastel colours praised different people, the patterns casting shadows and light that melded together, a rainbow of light covering the plaza. There were some coils of fairy lights left, so I'd buried them into some bushes in the main square, taping little cupcake liners to the lights, poking holes in them with toothpicks. They were little balls of white light hidden amongst deep green leaves, tiny patterns amplified by the shadows. Carol Lockwood looked ecstatic, I'd say that was a job well done.

Until I heard the screaming.

As one, the crowd's necks snapped towards the girls screaming, a few sobbing and clutching each other. They were underneath a giant tree, one that I'd decorated earlier, and now, something _extra_ had been added. Tobias Fell had been strung up, blue shirt slashed open, blood crusted into the fabric and the open wound. Deep slashes had been torn into his chest and I swallowed back the bile in my throat. Whoever had done it had some irony; the Jesus imagery of the History teacher strapped to the tree branches by _fairy lights_, his feet dangling. The crowd panicked, stumbling backwards, others running and more screaming at this point. "Jesus," Mike muttered behind me and I wanted to curse. _Don't make me laugh at this, I'm probably already a suspect. Who would do that with fairy lights? Seriously, why the fairy lights?_

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><p>Now, instead of gentle lantern light and soft music, the main square was filled with harsh flashing blue lights and the screaming of sirens. Many of us stayed, waiting to be interviewed by the Sheriff, but at least she was mostly sure I wasn't the one that did it. The praise I was expecting Carol Lockwood to sing for Caroline Forbes, the one who was meant to be organising this whole catastrophe, had turned to a screaming fit of rage directed mainly at me, and poor James who looked like he'd wet himself or was about to. While she knew, hopefully, that I wasn't the perpetrator, she still acted like I was. Not for the first time today, I thought about where our great leader was and why the hell she wasn't here to listen to her boyfriend's crazy mother.<p>

"How could this possibly have happened?" Carol fumed and Mike stepped in, glaring at her viciously. He had stayed with me after everyone else had fled and was now sticking up for me, using this strange air of authority he somehow carried now to make the Mayor glare at him, a few deputies cowering from the old man.

"People die all the time, Mayor Lockwood. There ain't no point focusing on my Sarah when your Sheriff will be the one to find the bastard." Mike drawled, glaring at the woman who held his gaze. It was times like this, which makes it sound like this happens a lot more often than it actually does, that I love Mike Adams.

"She was in charge of decorating for the festival!" She seethed but Mike never backed down.

"I was under the belief that Miss Caroline Forbes was in charge of organisation, not Sarah. Funny though, how she's a suspect and the Sheriffs daughter ain't." I glanced at Mike, wide-eyed, the Mayor doing the same at his assumption and I bit my lip. _Don't piss her off!_ I wanted to scream at Mike. "Also," the old man continued, not fazed by any of the looks three different women were sending him. "You inspected the decorations at 4:30, so if you saw something out of the ordinary then, like your dead teacher, then this conversation had been very different. This means he was put in that tree afterwards when you had sent Sarah home. I would like to leave now, _with my daughter_, and I hope you do catch the man that was actually responsible." Mike finished, still glaring at Carol Lockwood and the Sheriff. I'd never seen the Mayor gobsmacked before, it was a very strange sight. Before either of them could say otherwise, he grabbed my hand, stalking away and under the yellow tape. As I passed, I saw Elena, a look of horror on her face as Mr Fell was loaded into a van and taken away.

Mike was silent as he strode home, me a few paces behind. His face was stony, lips set into a snarl. If this was a cartoon, there would probably be smoke coming out of his ears. I didn't know if this was the right time to talk about what he had said to the Mayor, but I couldn't think of any other time that would be good. "You called me your daughter." I said quietly, but Mike stopped in his tracks like I had shouted it.

He turned back to me, a strange look crossing his face. "I know that you're not mine, at least biologically but... To me, you _are_ my daughter. S'not that your dad didn't love you, he just didn't like that you reminded him of your mother. Heck, I only ever saw her picture and you remind _me_ of her. And dads have got to take care of their little girls, right?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to speak and I smiled hesitantly.

"Even when their suspected of murdering high school teachers?" I asked and Mike laughed, throwing his head back and an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

"Especially then." He murmured, resting his chin on my head. I buried my face in his jacket, even if it smelt like cigarette smoke. I don't know how long we stood like that, or even what we might've looked like to a stranger. Maybe like any father and daughter would. Soon though, the moment ended and Mike pulled away, shoving his hands in his pockets while I crossed mine in front of my chest, and we kept going, kept walking home.

I smiled lazily when we got home, trudging up the stairs and pulling my shoes off and collapsing on my bed, not caring when it groaned. I snuggled under the warm duvet, head stuffed into the mound of pillows I'd collected over the years. "Hey," a gruff voice said from the door way and I unearthed myself. "Lockwood didn't say it, so I will. Nice job today, I'm proud." Mike's warm brown eyes glistened with earnestly and I blinked, the sleepiness catching up to me.

"Don't say that," I fought to keep my voice from slurring and he frowned. "People might think you're going soft." I teased and Mike snorted.

"Night kid," He muttered, flicking the switch and I sighed happily, a nice warm feeling settling in my stomach. _I could get use to this_, was the last thing I remembered thinking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Another point I didn't make last week was that some of the episodes might be merged together, because there is just not enough per episode for a chapter I'm happy with.**

**Also, a little side note, how would you describe the inside of the Salvatore Boarding house?**

**As always, read, review, follow and favourite! :)**

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><p>The past couple of weeks have been weird. I know everything and everyone in this town are weird but this is different. After what happened at the bonfire, I thought Rebekah would ignore me, maybe even hate me like the rest of the cheerleading squad. Because despite everything, that is the natural order of things. She is a cheerleader, blonde, pretty and so, popular. I am a nerd, a brunette, ordinary bookworm and the bottom of the pecking order. I am the ugly duckling, and she is an elegant swan. But in this fairytale, there is no happy ending for the duckling, only obscurity. I don't really mind that as an idea. I just don't like that for some reason, because I don't wear the right clothes, say the right thing, or anything that I must be picked on by the rest of teenage society.<p>

It's lunchtime, and I'm sat outside, alone of course, where I always sit. There's this small tree out nearer the parking lot, gives plenty of shade, no one else wants to sit by the cars and buses and so I don't usually get bothered. Rebekah's outside as well, with the cheerleading squad. They're probably talking about Homecoming, it's in about two weeks. No doubt she is like every other girl, vying for Homecoming Queen. Why am I so obsessed with Rebekah? I have no idea. I guess it's because the bonfire reminded me of... Having friends. Yes, I did used to have friends, but that was way before Mystic Falls. Maybe in another life, we would've been friends. The new girl just reminded me of what it felt like.

Did you know she's good at gymnastics? Of course she is. Backflips, twirls, and attracting people is like a walk in the park for her. Sorry, I'll stop talking about her... It's not working. She's talking to Elena Gilbert now, which is surprising and unsurprising at the same time. When she first got here, it was like they had some kind of a past, both throwing glares at one another. Maybe it's just a queen bee thing, like with Caroline. But, they are both popular, beautiful and have been cheerleaders at some point; they're bound to get along. At least, that's what most people might see. Being alone and having no friends means that I am good at reading people, noticing what others don't. Rebekah looks angry, especially when Elena gives her a picture. The brunette looks smug, a look that shows the true 'mean girl' inside of her. _She is blackmailing her?_

Whatever was happening, it wasn't my concern. It was a popularity power struggle, something I would not get involved in. The bell rang anyway, reminding me of my place- alone, at the back of the classroom and not in sight of any popular kids. And I managed it, no terrible interactions with the popular group for an entire day. A few words from a certain Physics teacher, but I can handle him.

Mike was strangely absent when I got home. I dropped off my bags before jogging outside, wondering if he was sat outside. _Guess he's at the Grill,_ I thought, plugging in my old laptop. _Time to make a start on that mountain I call homework..._

After a few hours, Mike stumbles back in, arms laden with goodies. I had finished most of my homework, retreating to the basement a while ago, but had almost sprinted up the stairs at the racket he was making. We looked at each other for a few seconds, as he shrugged, holding up the over-flowing bags. "Went shopping," he croaked, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip. I blinked, standing on the top step of the basement stairs. Mike _never_ went shopping. He would leave money in the little tin in the kitchen, the keys to his truck lying next to them. He never did any chores either, apart from sweeping the floor. That seemed to be the one thing he did and the rest fell to me.

"You just gonna stand there, or come help me?" Mike asked and I jumped into action, taking one of the bags before he dropped it. He grunted, his version of a thank you, and shuffled through to our tiny kitchen, then heading back out to his old orange pickup truck for more.

About six more bags were brought in and my eyes were bugging out of my skull. "How much did you spend?" I wanted to scream but it came out more hushed. Mike shrugged looking at me. "Figured it's about time we splurged on something- might as well have some good food around." He caught my look, and rubbed my arm. "Don't worry so much, we _do_ have enough for this kind of luxury once in a while." I smiled sadly at his words. I don't think our kitchen has ever seen this much food at one time. Ever. It looks more like we're feeding an army, not a retired man and a teenage girl.

Lasagna, I'm gonna make lasagna, I thought but then something else struck me. "Mike, do you like lasagna?" I called, letting it echo around, the man wandering off after dropping his 'splurge' shopping in the kitchen. There was a pause. "Why are ya making pasta?" He yelled back and I rolled my eyes. "'Cause I want to... And you got all the ingredients for it!"

My phone rang at about eight o'clock. I frowned at it, watching it vibrate on the counter. The phone didn't recognise the number, giving me a blank face to consider. I hesitated before picking it up.

"Hello?" I said tentatively, and someone was sobbing at the other end. "S-s-sarah?" My name was masked by the violent hiccups the other person was having, but I recognised the voice.

"Rebekah? Are you alright?" I asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "Can you come see me? I really want to talk to you." She said, and I hesitated for a split second. How did she get my number? Was this a joke, her idea of a prank? She did fit the stereotypical cheerleader almost to a 't'. But the crying _did_ sound real. I took the plunge.

"Er, yeah, sure. Where do you wanna meet?" The sobbing on the other end of the line lessened a little.

"Do you know where the Salvatore Boarding house is? I'm sort of staying with them at the moment," she sniffed loudly and I nodded, before saying yes when I realised she couldn't see my nod through the phone. That was a sort of lie- I knew whereabouts the Boarding house, but not it's exact location. _Okay, a short detour to Google Maps_. "I'll be over soon," I promised, before hanging up and opening the internet.

"Hey Mike! I'm borrowing the truck!" I shouted, dashing up the stairs to get a jumper. The man watched from the living room doorway. "Why?" He asked calmly as I ran around. I paused for a few seconds.

"Someone's in trouble," I said and he frowned, crossing his arms. "Not in a serious way, it's just she was crying, so... I might be back late." Mike nodded silently and I grabbed the keys, walking out to the truck. If I'd have looked back, I might of seen Mike grin at me, before walking back into the living room and turning on the TV.

_Nice house_, I thought to myself, walking up a small driveway onto a roundabout, reaching the entrance. I had parked outside the gates, not really wanting to damage the nice view of the house with my borrowed, old, faded orange truck. It was massive, with big stone bricks and arched windows. Two thick wooden doors stood in front of me and I mentally steeled myself. With a slightly shaking fist, I knocked hard on the door.

Elena Gilbert answered the door, looking just as shocked as I felt as she looked me up and down. "Sarah?" She said, as if not expecting me here. _She probably wasn't,_ I told myself. _Then again, why is she answering the door?_ Like I was brave enough to actually voice that question out loud. "What are you doing here?" She asked, sounding curious and a bit suspicious. I shook a little, but she didn't seem to notice.

I knew this would happen, that someone other than Rebekah would open the door. _We can do this, just answer the simple question. Just don't be weird._ I took a breath and opened my mouth. "I'm here to see Rebekah." I murmured quietly, and thankfully, my voice didn't shake.

Elena narrowed her big brown eyes at me. "Rebekah? Why?" She asked, a thin layer of steel coating each word. I gulped, taking another deep breath. _Come on, you did it earlier, you can do it again. Destroy that stupid nickname. _A voice urged but I couldn't. Elena was glaring at me now, as if wondering why a girl like me would want to see Rebekah. Or the other way around. She would make a better friend to the new girl than I ever would. "Well?" Damn, she was getting impatient. It was only a matter of time before she'd shut the door in my face. I could feel her contemplating it.

"Well... She called me earlier, and she sounded really upset." My voice was barely above a whisper. Elena nodded, eyes still narrowed at me. She opened the door a little more, still scrutinising me. I took the silent invitation and walked inside.

The decoration looked old, more British, Victorian even rather than modern but it suited the house. Elena seemed to relax for some reason once I came inside. I turned to her. "Where is she?" I asked quietly, keeping myself polite. She frowned and turned, pointing down the long corridor. "Up those stairs and the last door on the left. Damon and Stefan aren't home but they'd probably prefer you not going into their rooms." She mentioned, looking back at me, a strange look in her eyes. "Men are territorial like that I guess," she added, like it was a proper explanation and I nodded, still trying to be polite but it was becoming a little awkward.

"I'm gonna go find Rebekah," I said, looking at Elena, who nodded. "Yeah, that'd be good. Look, are you two friends?" I heard the other silent question. _How can you be friends with her?_

I clenched my jaw, looking away from her and she cleared her throat, acting a little embarrassed. "Sorry, not my place." She muttered, seeming a little put out by not getting an answer. She moved towards the door and I watched her go, a little panicked. She's not kicking me out, is she? Elena answered my silent question. "I'm actually heading home. G'night." She said hastily, obviously wanting to end the conversation and I nodded, turning my back and walking off where Elena had pointed to.

Once I got up the stairs, it was easy to know which room was being used. A deep chestnut door at the end of the hall blocked most of the loud, sad music being played and sometimes you could hear sobs and sniffles. Gently, I knocked on the door, opening it slowly. Rebekah was curled up on a massive bed that wouldn't have fit inside my room, crying, eyes red and cheeks puffy. The room was decorated in the same style as the rest of the house, but she had added her own touches, with bright pink fluffy pillows and a soft, luxurious throw rug. Her blonde head shot up and she rushed at me, crushing me to her. I froze, slowly putting my arms around her as she cried. I'd never seen her act like this, or anyone for that fact. How would normal people act? Think Sarah!

"What happened?" I asked, rubbing soothing circles into her back. I remember when I was younger, Mike would do it for me, and it always made me feel better. Suddenly, Rebekah pulled back, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry... I don't usually act like this, it's just I got some bad news..." She trailed off, sniffing and giving me a watery smile. I frowned at her, "What sort of bad news?" I asked and she stiffened, staring at me. I gulped, looking away, feeling bad. Rebekah's face melted, and she trudged back to her bed. Hesitantly, I followed, keeping a respectable distance. We weren't friends, not really, but for some reason, she had called me.

Rebekah just smiled weakly at me, and looked down at her fingers. "Did you know that you're the only person I can call? None of the girls from the squad, or the Salvatore boys, and certainly not my brother," her voice darkened, her hands clenching tightly, knuckles turning white. She looked up at me, her deep blue eyes filled with tears. "They would stab me in the back, or not be sincere or actually care." She chuckled darkly. "Just you. Why?"

The blonde looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to answer, but I didn't know how or what to say. Did she really have no one? That's so lonely, I thought sadly. I didn't say anything and Rebekah smiled. This time, it wasn't as kind. "Of course, I'd forgotten. Silent Sarah. Now I know where the name comes from." She said, her tone turning icy and vicious, the true mean girl in her showing. I stiffened, biting the inside of my lip. "I can understand that you are upset about something Rebekah, but there is no reason to take it out on me." I said, keeping my tone cool and calm, trying not to storm out in a huff.

Suddenly, Rebekah snapped. "He lied to me! After all these years and all the times I've stood by him, protecting him and he lied to me! How could he? We were meant to be a family, always and forever, and he's been lying to me?!" She screamed in my face, cheeks red and she started pacing around her room, a snarl playing on her lips. I kept silent, knowing she had to get it out of her system otherwise she would drown in the anger. "All these years, he blamed our father, but it was really him! He killed her!" She screamed and Rebekah's face melted into that of a monster and she growled. Her eyes darkened, the blue clashing dangerously with a ring of red. The skin around her eyes darkened as well, tiny veins turning black and popping out. Her bright red lips parted, showing fangs, sharp and long jutting out.

I screamed, staring at her, crawling backwards. She took a few steps forward, eyes narrowed but then she jumped back and her face shifted back to it's 'human' state. _Vampire_, I cried, _they don't exist they can't_. There was so much noise. _She's going to kill us, she's a monster_. They were all too loud. _Run Sarah!_ Adrenaline was pumping through my blood, heart pounding. I jumped for the door, my hand closing around the handle. A slim, pale hand shot out, covering mine, keeping the door shut. I gasped, still trying to open the door but she was strong, much stronger than I was. She put her other hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at her. Her pupils dilated. "You'll forget what you just saw," she whispered and I relaxed, repeating what she just said. How could I not? Why did I ever feel like I was scared of her?

I shook myself, had I been thinking about something? Rebekah was looking at me strangely. Why were we at the door? Why can't I remember what just happened? "I'm sorry," Rebekah said apologetically, a perfect sheepish smile on her face. "I didn't mean to start shouting- I don't know what came over me." I smiled at her, and nodded.

"I know how it feels, to feel betrayed by family. To feel alone, because of what the people closest to you have done, or even don't do." I whispered, but she seemed to hear me loud and clear. She laughed, still a little strained from all her crying.

"Guess we both have daddy issues, huh?" I smiled sadly, and Rebekah opened the door. "I think I need a drink after all of this." She muttered, nodding her head, waiting for me to walk out of the door.

* * *

><p>That was almost a week ago. Since then, Rebekah had been... Kind, in her own strange way. She would smile at me when we passed in the corridor, glare at some not so nice words pointed at me in the lockerooms by the other girls, and sometimes guys around school. We texted as well, though topics usually included homecoming, which she was really excited for, and school stuff, sometimes inching towards family but one of us would stop that conversation from appearing. That may not be too unusual for teenage girls, but for me, that is very strange. Before Rebekah, the only person I texted was... No one. Now that I think about that, it's kinda sad, but my dad isn't really tech-savvy, or the kind of guy you text. And Mike just doesn't text people.<p>

At the moment though, I was spending one of my precious free periods creating decorations for the homecoming I wasn't even planning on going to. A downside of not talking to people means that you get volunteered for stuff you don't want to do and can't stop it. I'm painting banners for it, like Tyler Lockwood, who's on the other side of the van we've attached them to. Caroline Forbes is with him, which isn't a big surprise, while trying to supervise the decorations and continue their loud argument, that I'm finding increasingly hard not to listen to

"Stop hanging out with Rebekah the evil blood slut." The blonde on the other side of the van hissed at her boyfriend, and my hand froze, paintbrush inches away from the canvas. _Blood slut?_ I wondered, _what kind of an insult is that?_

Apparently Tyler Lockwood agreed with me, as I heard him sigh. "Just keep the claws in at the dance tonight, okay? For me?" He asked, sounding a little frustrated. Mentally, I shook my head. _What is with you this year? Stop listening in on other people's conversations!_ Carefully, I got back to work, tracing faint pencil stencils on the banner in thick black paint, smothering it. The pair of them quietened down for a few minutes. _Maybe their done_, I thought happily.

"So who has the misfortune of being compelled to be her date?" Venom laced through every word of Caroline's question and she sounded like she was gritting her teeth. _Maybe not._

"Matt said he'd take her," Tyler replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Caroline didn't reply straight away, and the tension was becoming palpable enough that I was starting to squirm.

"You set her up with Matt?!" She sounded close to screeching. _Oh boy_. Why was Caroline so upset? Matt was always nice to me, and Rebekah was possibly the closest thing I had to a friend. Plus, and I hate how I sound just like a brain dead cheerleader right now but, they make a great couple. Urgh, I think I need a shower, wash the stupidity and orange fake tan off me.

"She wanted to go to the dance, and didn't have anyone to go with. He drinks vervain, and she's better than someone like Silent Sarah, so what's the big deal?" If I was in a different state of mind, I might've paid more attention to the little voice in my head asking what the hell vervain was but I was paying attention to the other part of Tyler Lockwood's outburst. _Someone like Silent Sarah_. It was playing on repeat in my head, his voice ringing with defensiveness. Someone _like_ me, not even the real deal. That was an incredible slap.

I swallowed the pill forming in the back of my throat, lowering my shaking hand. Just because I wasn't going tonight, didn't mean I was going to ruin the decorations. I was too busy trying to nurse the sting from that last comment that I didn't hear Caroline's next words.

"The big deal is that Matt is an innocent, good person who should not be going to dances with evil blood sluts." Caroline argued back. Did she really hate Rebekah that much?

I heard Tyler sigh. "Matt's a guy, Caroline, and Rebekah's hot! Don't overthink this!" I couldn't resist, I just had to see the blonde's face at Tyler's retort. And it was priceless. She was glowering at her boyfriend, I'd never seen that much hatred in her eyes before, and certainly not directed at him. She opened her mouth again but her eyes darted towards me. I blushed, ducking my head, as the look on her face told me we both heard what Tyler had said, even in passing, about me. _Get out of there,_ the voice with wise words of wisdom was back. _She'll understand and you get a free afternoon. Go for it_. I listened to it, setting down the paintbrush, and heading back into school for my bag.

Caroline was quicker than I thought she'd be as one minute I was walking up the back steps, the next she had grabbed my arm, silently as well, tugging me back, but gentle enough that I wouldn't fall. "What did you hear?" She asked me suspiciously, like I had done something wrong, and anger welled inside of me. _You heard what he said!_ I wanted to shout at her, but I couldn't. That little pill was back, threatening to choke me.

"Enough to know that I am the worst case scenario for a date to a stupid high school dance." My voice cracked and wavered but I didn't really care. The blonde cheerleader looked shocked, her grip slackening enough to wrench my arm away and stalk into get my bags and leave this all behind me.

Rebekah texted me later, asking if I wanted to meet her. As if I have the busiest social life in Mystic Falls. She was beautiful as ever, even sitting on a cold, old bench in a slower part of town, showing off her perfect posture and perfect body and I remembered Tyler's comment. I swallowed it back though, and I smiled as I sat down, greeting her. The blonde started playing with the empty coffee cup in her hands, picking at the Starbucks logo on the side. "Honest truth, this is my first high school dance." She blurted grinning in excitement. Of course she was talking about homecoming, something I wasn't that interested in before, and certainly not now.

"Really?" I asked, and she nodded, still smiling sheepishly. While I wasn't that interested, I didn't think that was possible, not with a girl like Rebekah. she shrugged her shoulders, biting her lip.

"My brother and I were always moving around a lot, so we never had any time." She was still grinning brightly, showing off more of her perfect self. I wanted her to stop. Suddenly, she frowned, staring at me. "Well?" I blinked and she huffed. "What about you?" _She's asking you about the dance,_ a voice told me. _Thanks for clearing that up, wait stop! Don't talk back to your own hallucinations!_

"I'm not going tonight, I don't think." I sighed, rubbing my face. Rebekah looked like I had just run someone over. "What do you mean you're not going?" She demanded, "You have to!"

Suddenly everything came tumbling out. "Because I don't have anyone to go with!" I think that's the loudest I've ever been. "I don't have that 'perfect' dress or the 'perfect' boy. I don't have any friends at school- so no, I don't want to go to another high school dance where I sit at a table, drinking rubbish non-alcoholic cocktails, listening to music that went out of fashion before we were born, ALONE!" I was breathing heavily, Rebekah silent looking at me, not even blinking. _Maybe that went a bit to far,_ I thought, staring back at her, unable to read her expression despite how close we were. I opened my mouth to apologise, but she cut me off.

"You have me." She said quietly. She wasn't looking at me anymore, staring intensely at her coffee cup while I gaped like a fish, opening and closing my mouth over and over, trying to find an appropriate response. What do you say to that?

Abruptly, and a little stiffly, she got up. "It's late, I need to go. Since I'm going to the dance, I might as well look drop-dead hot for it." I flinched at what she was implying, not bothering to correct the mistake in her phrase, knowing it would probably make the already bad situation worse.

"Rebekah," I said, but I trailed off, not knowing what to say. "I didn't mean..." She shook her head quickly, golden hair flapping about her. "I know what you meant." She said calmly, like she didn't feel the sting of what I'd said, but there was a hint of sadness in her voice. She plodded away, and all I did was watch. _What have I done?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again, how is everyone? I'm quite chuffed I actually made it to Chapter 5, enjoy.**

**Read, review, follow and favourite (I think I should make that my catchphrase)**

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><p>I don't know where I am. It's dark and silent, my heartbeat is the only thing I can hear. I think I'm outside, in a forest maybe, but everything is shrouded in fog and a thin layer of death and despair. It's chilling and just being here makes my skin crawl. I want to leave, but for some reason I can't. Instead I am locked in place.<p>

Then, I hear a noise. Laughter. More specifically, it's Rebekah's laughter, I know that much but I've never heard her laugh like this. It is not musical or nice, like I've heard it before, but dark and sinister, like the surroundings. It is not a laugh of happiness or pleasure, but one of victory and cruelty.

My heart is racing, fear clawing at me and everything inside me is telling me to run. But I can't. I still can't see her, Rebekah, but her laughter still rings out. Fog pours out of the forest like there are millions of smoke machines hidden amongst the tree trunks. There is a blur from the corner of my eye, and I spin. A shadow races around inside the smoke, dark and mysterious shrouded in grey. The temperature drops, almost rapidly, and I exhale more clouds of smoke. My insides feel as cold as the air around me.

The shadow steps out into dim moonlight, but I know who it is. Rebekah. Even though she is standing at the other side of the clearing we're in, I can see her clearly. Her thick blonde hair shines beautifully, highlight's gleaming, carefully styled into deep, curling waves of honey. Her makeup is minimal, with dark eyes and blood red lips. She's wearing a red strapless dress that ends just above her knees, one that matches her lipstick perfectly. From here, the material looks soft and floaty, with delicate and deliberate creases and hugs her frame, showing off and emphasising her curves. She is a picture of perfection, a beauty like no other, but something feels... Off.

Her smile is cruel, her eyes hard and I've never seen her look at anyone the way she's looking at me. I gulp, trembling a little. She takes one step forward, slowly, precisely, eyes never leaving me and I take three skittish steps back. She smirks, cold and cruel. She just stares at me, like she's inspecting me, figuring out all my faults. This is a dangerous Rebekah, a stranger wearing the skin of a girl I could almost call a friend. I blink, and suddenly she's gone, no trace of her anywhere. I gasp, breathing deeply, not realising I had been holding my breath.

My heartbeat slows from the sprint it was just doing, and I close my eyes, chest heaving. _What just happened? What the hell is wrong with Rebekah? What's wrong with me?_ I can feel my muscles unfreezing, their invisible locks undoing. My eyes dart around me. _Where am I anyway?_ I thought. _How do I get out of here?_ I feel drawn to a specific point in the tree line, as if my heart wants me to go there. _Alright, let's start there._ The closer I get, the more I feel like it's the right decision. But there is another feeling that makes my stomach writhe and I want to ignore it.

Just as I was about to reach the tree line, my fingers close enough to brush bark, ice ran down my spine. Giggles echoed, just as dark as before. In a blur, Rebekah was right in front of me, staring down at me with a cruel smirk plastered to her face. She cocked her head to one side, feigning innocence. My stomach dropped and a lump formed in my throat when I realisied she'd never left, only let me think that I had been spared. She had toyed with me the way a cat toys with a mouse before they kill it. She played the predator's game.

I'm to die. As the thought entered my mind, I started to feel adrenaline seep into my blood. I knew it wouldn't be enough. Nothing would be enough against her. "Scared little one?" She asks, her voice like ice. I can't answer- no really, I can't. It's like my vocal cords have taken a vacation without me. _What is happening?!_ I wanted to scream.

As Rebekah smiled horribly, the veins around her eyes began to darken, as if ink was travelling though them, but nowhere else. My eyes widened. _What the hell?_ She pulled back her scarlet lips, showing bright white fangs, too long and too sharp to be natural canines. _That's not possible... They don't exist, they can't..._ I managed to stumble backwards, still in shock. In a flash, she was directly in front of me, almost pressed flush against me. She yanked my head back painfully, exposing my neck. I thrashed, but it was useless against her steel hold.

"You should be," the blonde vampire whispered, sinking her teeth into my throat. I screamed, no sound coming out, my body convulsing in protest. All I felt was pain and then-

My body shot up, gasping and sweating, heart hammering. It gradually slowed, knowing I was in the safety of my bedroom, not some creepy forest. Shaking fingers tore into my hair, rubbing the skin gently, soothingly. _God, what is wrong with me? Freaking nightmares..._ I glanced at my alarm clock, letting out a quiet groan. _5:16am, are you kidding me?_ Flopping back on my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, eyes un-focusing. It's Saturday, the one day of the week I can sleep in, and I wake up at five freaking sixteen?!

When I next look, time has disappeared, the clock reading half seven, a slightly better time, but not by much. I feel lazy, restless and exhausted all at the same time, just lying in the warmth my bed provides. I feel like I should get out of bed, but I am too tired to do so. I eventually drag myself out when the clock screeches to life, muffling it as best as I can, blundering for the off button. _Okay, homework or TV? Which one?_ I asked myself, already knowing the answer as I turned on my laptop.

Four hours, three episodes of _Doctor Who_ and two Chemistry questions out of ten later, I decided it was time to venture out of the depths of my room. Mike was already downstairs, glancing up at me as I trudged through the doorway. He smirked at me, the edges of his silvery moustache curling upwards.

"Don't know how your gonna deal with a real hangover," he muttered into his mug, loud enough for me to hear. I glared at him, keeping my face smooth but my eyes sharp and deadly, something I had seen my dad do whenever someone annoyed him. Mike just grinned. From all the exposure, I think he's become immune. "Keep getting better at that," he said and I rolled my eyes, knowing I couldn't do anything. I pull out a slightly chipped bowl and a box of some kind of cereal, pouring it in with one hand as I used the other to rub my eyes.

"Heard you up early this mornin'. Something troublin you?" Mike asked, keeping his voice casual but I could sense an undercurrent. Part of me liked when he asked questions like that, showed that he cared, but I hated the attention.

"No, just a nightmare," I lied, glad my back was to him as I knew he would never believe me otherwise. It was troubling me, and I couldn't shake the feelings I woke with after: confusion, betrayal and fear. I didn't understand the confusion or betrayal but the fear... It felt too real to me, like Rebekah had actually tried to kill me, and I couldn't understand why I felt like that. I had woken in a cold sweat, something I had heard about but never experienced before. Like most of my problems, I bottled it, ignored it and moved on. No point crying over spilt milk right?

On Saturdays, Mike and I have a weird schedule of sorts. Usually I'd get up at around ten and do some homework or chores or potter around in the basement while Mike sat around, smoking cigarettes and listening to his radio but only ever in Spanish. He had wanted to move to Mexico, but instead bought this house in Virginia so I could still be close to my dad, but not too close.

Later, at around three, we would head down to the Grill where the old man would drink cheaper Bourbon and for me, Dr Peppers, as he had made a deal with the manager after a couple of the tables needed to be repaired, so Mike or should I say _I_ did that. It was annoying how I would be the one making the trinkets and furniture we sold at the market once a fortnight, or to others in Mystic Falls, or even at festivals but Mike got all the credit. Then again, most girls my age aren't into woodwork. Plus they don't offer it as an elective at school and the old man does have plenty of time in his hands. I glanced at the clock before going back up to my room to finish the Chemistry questions and make a start on the essay Mr Saltzman had set us.

I had actually finished it all when Mike yelled for me to get my butt down the stairs so we could leave. We walked there in comfortable silence, neither of us having anything to say and gas was too pricy to use on a quick trip to the Grill. Plus, Mike was going to get drunk and I don't have enough money to get official lessons.

The bar is quite crowded, just like it always is on a Saturday afternoon. I spy a table while Mike walks straight to the bar for drinks. I like being here, even if I'm alone or with Mike- I like the warm, bubbly atmosphere that the Grill always provides. I find it soothing, getting lost in the confusion of voices around me. The Elena Gilbert gang is here, crowded around a little table while Mike and I are at the booths near the back. He's still at the bar and I pull out my notebook. I don't really think it's a notebook; the closest thing to it would be a journal or a diary, but it's not really. It's where I doodle, sketch, outline future projects and come up with plans for anything and everything, ranging from what I'll do tomorrow to world domination.

"Hello love," I jump at the voice and look up. A young man, but a little older than me, is sat across from me, smiling charmingly. He has short curled blonde hair, stubble, and sharp cheekbones. The artist in me craves to draw him, but I'm a little freaked out by his sudden appearance. In the white noise bubble around me, I didn't hear him approach or sit down. I stare at him silently. _Who is he?_ I think to myself but the man just smiles.

"Where are my manners?" He asks rhetorically, waving his hands a little dramatically. _Maybe he's already drunk, _I thought. "My name is Klaus." He said, looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to give mine.

"Sarah," I murmured quietly and Klaus' grin grows. While I want him to be drunk, just be some nice inebriated man who's feeling friendly, and certainly not frisky, I can tell from the strange gleam in his eyes that he is a man on a mission, and is definitely sober.

"Sarah? A lovely name for a lovely woman," he compliments but I can tell its nothing but a front, flattery for something he wants and I draw away from him. For a brief second, anger flashes across his face, but a moment later its as smooth as silk, the scowl disappearing like how my confidence tends to flee at this part of the conversation. I can feel it happening, with the twisting of my insides and the slight awkward tension in the air around us.

"You see, a little birdie told me that you're close with my little sister," he said casually, inspecting his nails, looking up at me and suddenly everything clicks. The colouring, the voice, the same sapphire blue eyes staring at me intensely from across the table. "Rebekah?" I question, and Klaus makes a confirming noise in his throat.

He breathed in noisily through his nose, clasping his hands on the table in front of him, hunching his shoulders as he leaned closer to me. Subconsciously, I draw further away, my back hitting the back of the leather seat. "Yes, and you see I can't find her. Don't suppose you know where she is?" He asked, sounding casual but there was a steel undercurrent, one that I knew well enough. It meant that he was being polite to me out of curtesy and if I disrespected him or lied to him, he would become dangerous very fast. For some reason, it reminded me of the nightmare I had this morning.

Despite the nightmare, my heart drops like a rock at his words. _Missing?_ "She's missing?" I asked quietly, my mind reeling. This was serious, really serious. Missing was bad, very bad. 90% of missing people weren't found alive. All I could think about was the fight. I had thought about it a lot, even trying to text her a few times but she never replied. I thought she had been angry at me, ignoring me but what if she never got them? What if she's already dead? _Great, you potentially make one new friend and somehow you manage to lose her,_ a snarky voice in my head piped up. _That's what you're thinking about? Now?!_ I want to groan, or say something comforting to Klaus but I can't find it.

While he seems bored or angry, I do feel that in some way, he's worried about his sister. After everything Rebekah told me, they seem close and he is probably worried, just hiding it because he's a guy.

Klaus drags me away from my mental shouting match. "When did you last see her?" He's becoming more urgent, probably realising I'm not much help and that his sister has odd tastes in friends. This isn't a friendly conversation between two worried people. This is an interrogation but at the moment I don't care. I just want to help, though I know my answer to his question won't help.

"Before homecoming," I start, and already I can see him shutting down, not registering anything I say after this. "We had a bit of a fight... I haven't seen her since," I trail off, knowing he isn't listening, his eyes scanning the crowds, the blue lighting up when he sees something or someone. I crane my neck to see if it's Rebekah. I can't find the familiar blonde and I turn back to her brother.

"Hmmm, maybe I'll ask Damon Salvatore. He probably knows where she went," His velvet accent turned cold at the end, his face darkening as well and while he said this out loud, it sounded more like he was saying it to himself. He lurches to his feet and walks away, with no goodbyes or acknowledgement of me. It is a powerful stride, one that makes the crowds part for you, but immediately after, they swallow you up, obscuring you, or in this case Klaus from view.

A few seconds later, Mike slides into the other side of the booth, following my gaze. He sets a glass of soda in front of me, a fifth of whiskey in front of himself. "Friend of yours?" He grunted, obviously talking about Klaus. I shook my head. "Rebekah's older brother." Mike nodded, still glaring in the general direction where the man in question had disappeared into. "So you two aren't..." I freeze, turning back to look at an uncomfortable Mike Adams, my eyes widening in horror. I flush, heat exploding from my cheeks. "No Mike." I said firmly, staring at him, "just no."

"You're not a kid anymore, you're a young woman," I had a feeling I knew where this was going. We had actually done the whole 'birds and bees' thing, school took care of it in 35 minutes of awkward tension in a room filled with about twenty other thirteen year olds, and I never wanted to have it in public. "Sometimes, a man may say or do something," I needed to stop him. He was verging on rambling and part of me wanted to laugh at the old mans predicament. The rest of me was mortified.

"Mike," I warned and he stopped, looking up at me. "I get what you're getting at. Quit while you're a head." He nodded, taking a deep gulp of the amber liquid in his glass, as I took a sip of mine. I flipped to a clean page in my notepad, a rarity unfortunately. I made a note to get a new one, while I sketched out some new ideas. _Chairs_, I internally mused, _we need new ones._ This translates to, I'm going to make new chairs. I also sketched some ideas for statues and necklaces, knowing they were popular at the market, either in Mystic Falls, or that craft shop in Richmond, where the owner was sweet on Mike.

"Are you happy here?" Mike blurted suddenly, and I stopped what I was doing to look up at him. He was fidgeting in his seat, playing with his empty glass. I nodded, frowning, not to sure where this was going. "It's just, my pension doesn't give a lot, and we scrape by, most of the money your dad sends is under lock and key for when you go to college, and sometimes, I think you'd be happier with your old man. Your real old man," he said, purposefully not looking at me. "Your life'd be better, you'd go to a nice school in DC, live in a nice house, actually get a licence, don't you want that?"

I don't know what to say, what is he saying? Does he not want me anymore? Want to pass me along to someone else? Is this the drink talking? I shake my head, feeling a little dizzy after the action and Mike looks worried. "You sure? Your dad'd be better than me, better by far. And I like having you around, but if you don't like it, you can be with him, I won't judge." He sounds like he's about to cry and I don't know why I'm not. I shake my head again, and he just nods. "Love you kid, but if you tell anyone, I'll deny it." I snort, gulping back hot tears. _There's the Mike I know and love/hate._

Hours pass, I'm not too sure how many. We get more drinks, and a plate of fries between us. Some people leave, but more come in, and the next thing I know, Elena Gilbert, Caroline and Bonnie are all in the booth next to mine. Mike left two Dr Peppers ago, leaving me at the booth while he went home, and I stayed, enjoying the ambience, fiddling with my notepad, scribbling more ideas for me to out into practice.

The white noise had died down to simmering chat, quiet enough that I could snatches of conversation at other tables. There were a few empty glasses on my table and I knew Matt would be along soon to take them away. Maybe it's strange that I like this, but I do. I like being lost in a popular restaurant, the peace I get, the kind smiles Matt gives me when he comes to clear away the glasses.

Behind me, I can hear Caroline, Elena and Bonnie muttering about something. I know it's bad to eavesdrop, and I never hear anything I like, but I can't seem to help myself. Maybe because I'm so quiet, I can always hear other peoples conversations. And that never ends well, especially when it comes to the trio in the next booth.

Caroline started talking and I tried to block it out, I really did. I let loud music play in my head, but it didn't work. All I heard her say was "...she'll kill you," _She? Is she talking about Rebekah? Why would Rebekah try to kill her? Does Elena know where she is but she doesn't want to be found? Huh?_

Bonnie though, was the one that managed to change the subject. "He was hear earlier, remember, talking to Sarah," I hear her say, and my heart drops. _Oh boy, please drop this, let's not do a Mean Girls thing while I'm right here._ Matt comes over, almost silently, picking up my empty glasses, motioning with his head as if to say _Another?_ I shake my head, because now I'm too preoccupied by the fact that I can't stop listening to them now they're talking about me. Matt is still here, and there are no squeals or hellos from the next both so I guess the trio haven't noticed him yet.

"What is with their friendship anyway?" Caroline demanded to know, sucking the remains of whatever she was drinking through her straw.

"It's weird," Bonnie mumbled and Caroline continued on what sounded like the start of a rant. "Yeah! As much as I hate Rebekah's guts and want to rip her apart, I wouldn't think she would willingly make friends with a girl like Sarah. I know she's really nice and stuff but she's Sarah," the trio simultaneously made agreeing noises. _There it is again, my name has somehow become the worst thing on the planet._ The busboy at the table frowned, engrossed by his friends conversation, glancing over at me quickly before glancing back at them.

"She's nerdy, weird, a loner, not really that pretty," the blonde rattled off and every word was like a knife. I stared into Matts face, hoping to keep mine calm and indifferent but his kept getting whiter, more shocked and angrier.

"She has a nice nose," Bonnie butted in and Elena murmured her agreement. I could imagine them all nodding their heads in sink, like cows. At the moment, I think cows is actually a very nice word to describe them. My legs are shaking and the rest of me wants to as well but Matts here and I don't him or anyone to see.

"Well yeah, but Rebekah's still a popular girl and even if she's an evil blood slut who everyone hates, I just don't get how they're friends," the cheerleader said, and it looked like Matt finally snapped, moving to stand at their table angrily. I also snapped, grabbing my notepad and storming away, but I heard most of the Jocks words as he chewed them out.

"Like I just don't get how you three can be so bitchy about a girl who's at the next booth. I'm sor-" I'm too far away to hear Matt's anger, almost at the door, but I feel like they're staring at me, well, someone is anyway. Outside it's cold, dark and deserted and finally I can show how I feel.

Tears fall down my cheeks, probably flushed from embarrassment of having to hear that. Part of me wonders if life would be different in DC. Not this bit. It might be a different place, a different time with a different set of popular girls, but they all had one constant factor- me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Look at that, Chapter 6 and you know who makes his first appearance ;)**

**[Not Voldemort]**

**Read, review, favourite and follow!**

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><p>Sunday was a blur and Monday rolls around quicker than I expected. I know that a lot of people say that, but for me, it does. My tears had dried up by the time I got home, and Mike never asked, only watched silently as I fled to the basement, losing myself in whatever project I'm doing.<p>

I get my woodworking skills from my dad. He used to build boats in his basement. Probably still does but for me, it's anything and everything I fancy. As long as I've got the materials. Which isn't hard, especially since I live next to a forest.

Rebekah still hasn't texted me back, and I hope it's because she's angry at me rather than she's disappeared. Though she has to come into school, maybe I can explain then if she's willing to listen, if I can get the words out that is. But at school is Caroline Forbes, Bonnie Bennett, Elena Gilbert and Matt Donovan, all of whom will want to talk about Saturday, something I don't feel comfortable with. _Like you'll ever be comfortable with talking to people._

I go anyway, because I don't have the guts to skive off school but it appears Rebekah does, as I can't find her anywhere. Either that or she's late. She's a popular kid, she can get away with it. _Right, I've got ten minutes of nothing, what do I do?_ I thought to myself as I reach my locker. _Hide under a rock for all eternity?_

Down the hall, I can see Bonnie and Elena decorating Caroline's locker. I think I heard something about her 18th birthday,so I guess it's today. They stick pink and purple streamers everywhere and golden stickers, chatting as they work. _Maybe they're gossiping about some other poor nerd,_ I thought darkly. No, stop Sarah. Don't be bitter. I turn back to my locker, pulling out the books I needed and stuffed them into my slightly worn backpack.

Jeremy Gilbert saunters past me, smiling brightly at anyone who catches his eyes, including me, who, unsurprisingly, returned it a little awkwardly. _What's got him in such a good mood?_ I wonder, before realising it has absolutely nothing to do with me because, why would it? I sigh, turning back to my locker when all I really want to do is bash my head against it. Think of the positive Sarah. _We have History first? Maybe we can see Rebekah then and apologise in the most pitiful way possible and hope she forgives us?_

Behind me, I hear Bonnie walking over to Elena's little brother. "So Denver huh?" She says, trying to be casual but anyone can hear the strain behind her words. "I wasn't sure you cared," was Jeremy's bitter response and I can feel a storm brewing between the two, the warning signs of an argument flashing to life. No, don't get involved Sarah. Bad things always happen when you get involved. Trying to drone them out, I start humming little tunes under my breath, hoping that they don't fight behind my back.

Eventually, it goes quiet a few lockers down and I pause my ministrations, closing my eyes in relief. "I'm just sorry you have to go," the popular girl whispered, sounding like she was close to tears. Someone brushes past me, my hair rustling in the tiny breeze as Bonnie speeds away from Jeremy Gilbert, pushing past a few other people and into a bathroom down the hall.

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><p>So Rebekah wasn't in History, the desk next to mine sadly vacant. For some reason, Mr Saltzman didn't seem to care, as if he knew why she wasn't there. Maybe she'd called in sick. Or her brother, Klaus, for her. <em>Positivity Sarah,<em> I'm chided internally. Alright... I had the best essay in class? That's good right? Apart from cementing my position as the Queen of the Nerds.

A few times I can feel eyes on me, and I have a feeling their Elena's, especially as after class she starts calling my name and running after me. This is one of the many times I wish I had been blessed with some kind of sporting ability. The ex-cheerleader catches up with me too quickly and pulls me into a very one sided conversation. My eyes dart everywhere but on her face as she tries to apologise for Saturday.

"It's fine Elena," I murmur quietly, and her eyebrows knit together, sensing the lie. "I'm over it." Now I'm pushing my luck, but it's what we both want to here so the subject is dropped as we separate, thankfully heading off to different lessons.

I sigh, gazing out of the great arched windows in the library, glorious sunlight gracing all of the students outside, shunning the very few inside. Usually I sit outside, but I decided against it today, hiding within the recesses of the library, doodling, instead of Biology homework.

The slamming of a bag against the table I was sat at made me jump, as Jeremy sat down across from me causally, grinning at me when he caught my eye, like this was a regular occurrence. I smiled cautiously, but I could feel that it came out as more as a grimace. He sighs at me, still smiling "Really Sarah? I thought we were better friends." He says, and I'm just staring at him like a moron. _Is he teasing me? Or just being friendly? And where did this come from? Is he high right now?_

I smiled at him, but I still felt a little wired, not relaxed the same way I could be around Rebekah. Jeremy didn't seem to notice, too busy pulling books, pencils, pens, wrappers and a load of junk out of his backpack. _Is that a skateboard wheel? Why does he have that?_ I watch him, forgetting all about the doodling and late homework. Despite not really knowing him, I still want to know if what I 'overheard' was true.

"Heard you're off to Denver," I mentioned, refusing to look at his face, but I can see his hands stop moving. He laughs a little, running a hand through his hair, then shaking his head. _Why do guys do that? Doesn't it just mess up their hair? Especially since they sort of, kinda, just combed it?... _Focus Sarah!

I snapped back and Jeremy was still chattering excitedly, not noticing my brief mental absence. "Yeah, I'm moving in with some family in Denver," he said, sounding so happy and I frowned. _But why would you?_ It was like he was psychic, or maybe he just saw the confused look on my face. I like to think it was the first option.

"After all the drama going on, I think it's better I leave, y'know?" _Not really._ "It can only get better right?" _Maybe he is high_. "Plus, I'll be happier there, with a fresh start." _Okay now you're just messing with me._ "It will give me a better life," he added, and something about what he said made chills slink down my spine.

While I didn't really agree with him, there was something weird in the way that he said it, how underneath the earnestly and happiness, there was a layer of monotonous speech, like he was repeating someone's words. _Most normal people don't think like that Sarah,_ I reminded myself, ignoring whatever voice was setting off alarm bells in my head.

Jeremy smiled, more to himself than to me, flipping through a maths textbook, finding a clean page in his exercise book. I admired him; he had strength and courage, he actually made an effort to be accepted in society, while I just accepted my place, my strength and courage failing me like my voice.

Gently, I reached over, fingers skimming across the cover of a sketchpad I had chosen. Jeremy watched me from the corners of his eyes, but didn't comment or move to stop me. It was the fancy, expensive kind, the ones were the pages where stiff like card instead of flimsy paper that I was used to. I flipped to a clean page, pulling out a mechanical pencil from my own bag. Jeremy didn't stop me.

Every so often, Jeremy would try and strike up a conversation, but it would eventually breakdown. Not awkwardly, just... We wouldn't talk. I smiled when I finished the drawing, packing away my stuff as a bell rang somewhere in the library. "I hope you like Denver, and that you never forget Mystic Falls," I murmur, handing back the sketchpad, still open on my contribution. He picked it up, tracing over the lines, beaming at it.

"Nah, Mystic Falls is too memorable," he said, still staring at my drawing but there was a strange twinge in his voice. Bitterness? Anger? Resentful? I didn't know. Part of me was glad he seemed mesmerised by my work, though a bigger part was worried. I had drawn him and his family- Bonnie, Elena, Caroline, Stefan, Matt and Tyler all sat around a bench together, laughing and smiling as if they didn't have a care in the world.

It wasn't a real image, well not one that I had ever seen, choosing to draw from memory and slot the different puzzle pieces together, blurring certain lines that didn't slot together properly. The finished piece was good, I knew that, but as the artist, I could see all the tiny imperfections and was scared Jeremy the fellow artist could as well. Stefan's hair doesn't quite wave like that at the front, Caroline's nose is a tiny bit too long and Elena has a faint lazy eye. _Can still tell it's them,_ I mutter inside my head. While Jeremy might not know about what happened on Saturday, he's still Elena's brother, so I can't involve him, even if I wanted to.

Of course, Jeremy looks great in the picture, the only life model actually in front of me to stop little mistakes. Tyler, Matt and Bonnie all look okay, though one of Matt's ears are wonky. I just can't do ears, they have too many odd grooves... I grumble, but I still think it looks okay.

"Wait!" The dark-haired boy's shout jolts me and I glance up at him, shocked. He grins though, and I can't help but smile back. "This is amazing, really." He said earnestly and I fiddled with the straps on my bag, squirming under the attention. "Possibly the best going away present I could get." Suddenly he reaches forward, hugging me tightly and I freeze up, finding to many parallels with the night I went to see Rebekah.

"Thanks Sarah," he whispered in my ear, "I wish other people could see the real you," I froze, and he let go of me, still smiling before walking away, still tightly grasping the picture. The real me? I didn't think she existed, she lived buried deep inside, I don't think even Mike has met her. Sometimes she influences actions, but most of the time she is dormant, sleeping, waiting patiently for the day we will fly. Something flutters in my chest at the idea of people seeing the _real me._

Another bell drags me out of my thoughts, and I realise I am alone in the corridors, on the other side of the school than I should be. _Shoot_.

The rest of the day is un eventful and Jeremy's words still echo in my mind. He had ignited something- a yearning I thought I had squashed before now. Friendship, I thought. The need to be known, by few or by many. To be recognised for my talents, for people to turn around and not call me names or sneer as I walk past.

This is of course, pointless though, and I've never felt so alone as I do now without Rebekah. The first friend I've made in about 8 years, and I manage to drive her away. Just like everyone else.

Until now, I've never really noticed how uniform my life is, how content I was with it. Now, I felt a craving for something amazing and spectacular, something that only happened in movies. Days passed and Jeremy left, taking the picture with him presumably. Or it's lying at the bottom of his trash can, I'm not too sure. For some reason, I really hope he took it with him, a tiny memory of the small impact I may have had on his life.

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><p>Mike was gone when I got back from school, and over a week had passed since the incident at the Grill and Rebekah's disappearance. Klaus had talked to me again since then, a brief meeting on the street, and when I left, for some reason, I didn't feel too concerned for Rebekah's well being. As if he had taken away my worry.<p>

I stand in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection, and she stares back. Hair too light to be a nice chestnut brown, but too dark to be golden blonde. Eyes not quite blue enough to be classed as pretty. A tiny scar marring a patch of skin close to her jawline and freckles were splashed haphazardly across her face, too odd and irregular to be considered cute. It was a plain face, one that people would acknowledge and forget. One that could get lost in crowds. And that was the face I wore.

Of course, there were some redeeming qualities- while my hair was closer to beige than brown, it had a tendency to burn red in sunlight, like my mom's had. The freckles weren't too noticeable until you were stood in front of me, and I think my eyes were nice- unique rather than pretty. I wasn't textbook pretty like Rebekah or Caroline, or striking beautiful like Elena, or even mysterious like Bonnie. I was... Me, different and that was what I was happy with. _Well, most of the time_, I thought, but who doesn't have insecurities about their looks?

My hands are nice; small and nimble with soft callouses on the pads of them. They weren't too bad, I used up too many pots of moisturiser for that. And my legs looked okay, apart from the left thigh where a giant dark mole stood out against my pale skin.

It's around seven when Mike gets back, a wide cardboard box in one hand and a massive grin on his face. The box, or the delicacy inside smelt heavenly and my stomach rumbled loudly. The old man dumps it on the table, wiping some grease onto his pants, grabbing plates from the cupboard. "What's the occasion?" I ask, not being able to tear my eyes away from the steaming pizza on our table. The chairs creak as we slide into them and I jot a mental note to see if I can make more.

Mike still has that smile on his face, and I'm starting to get scared. "Got you a job," he said proudly, and I almost drop my slice. _Why would you do that?_ I want to scream.

The older man saw my look. "Don't gimme that look, it'll be good fer you. It's in that new cafe... What's it called... Oh yeah, The Red Bean." I gulped. There had been advertisement at school for jobs at that cafe. Someone from out of town wanted to set one up, and it seemed cosy enough, but it also implied having to talk to people, something that wasn't a strong point for me.

Mike gave me a look. "You can master a few sentences," he dismissed, waving his hand. I knew that he was trying to get me to open up and talk to more people, but I didn't want to do it like this.

But whatever Mike wants, Mike gets. I sigh. "When do I start?" I asked wearily and the old man grinned, his moustache bristling along the edges. "Got Saturday and Sunday mornings and Wednesday after school. 8 till 12 and 4:30 till 6, which are good for a probie." He chuckled and I smiled despite myself.

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><p>The Red Bean is actually really nice. With delicate purple walls, white wooden tables in the front of the shop and daisy patterns on the placemats, it's warm and cosy. Further in, there are low dark coffee tables and plump leather sofas that all you want to do is just sink into them. Heat washes over you the minute you walk in the door, something that will draw anyone in the early hours of the day and winter nights. Everything smells like coffee, naturally, and the tang of vanilla lingers in the air. My new boss is called Sylvia Anderson, a sweet woman who I now know has two children named Joseph and Abigail, likes baking and watching the Food Network.<p>

I don't know what strings Mike pulled to get me this job, and I don't focus on it, realising I probably don't want to know the details. I'm there a little early, at an astounding 7:45am, which puts Sylvia in a great mood. I try and show excitement, and I am grateful for her giving me the job. I've only just met the woman and I don't want to let her down, something I feel may happen.

It's not to bad, the work itself. I take orders and deal with the death trap cash register that preys on unsuspecting fingers and clear tables. By ten o'clock, all I can smell is coffee, chocolate and cinnamon, scents that individually make you pause but blended together is heaven. Sylvia comes out of the back room. "Thrown some powders into the air vents. Irresistible," she whispered quietly, and gave me a conspiratorial wink.

It seems the other inhabitants of Mystic Falls aren't immune to it as well, as many come in, wrapped in big autumn coats, breathing in a few lungfuls of the luscious smell before ordering. The Red Bean has big, stereotypical cafe windows, and from the counter, I can watch the world go by. There are two women jogging around the square, covered in luminescent yellow. A younger man dressed in a suit that probably costs more than my house saunter into the barber shop on the other side of the road. He comes out about thirty minutes later, hair cut shorter and spiked with delicate precision. He fiddles with a button on his sleeve, like he's posing for a picture. Though I can't make out his features, with the suit and the stance, he could be a model.

He looks over at the cafe, as if contemplating coming in, and part of me wants him to, just to see if he's as good looking as I think he could. Though if he was, I'd probably freeze up, which is definitely not a good first impression. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I can't decide which, he didn't come in, strolling away down the street and instead a different customer came and caught my attention and I forgot all about the possibly handsome man.

Wednesdays were a different story. While the cafe had only been open for about two weeks, after the weekend, it had somehow become a sensation, with several cliques at school declaring how _fabulous_ or _cool_ or _sick_ it was. So by Wednesday, I arrived and signed in, tying a cliché black apron around my waist and saw several girls, and guys from school, scattered around tables. A few gave me strange looks like _Does she actually work here?_ Yes. Yes, I somehow do. The atmosphere is nice, I like Sylvia and her nephew Peter who works from lunchtime onwards. The pay isn't too bad either, and one week makes around $48, which isn't too shabby. All in all, I like the job and I am very grateful for getting it.

By the time I finish on Wednesday, it's cold and dark, especially since Mike asked if I could run by the store first to pick up milk, bread and chips. I have no idea who the chips are for, considering we don't usually buy them and only when we have guests. A funny feeling knots my stomach when I realise the mysterious guest is probably my dad.

I shiver and pull my sweater tighter around me, praying that it will somehow become a portable space heater but I know it won't. My breath is like smoke and the flimsy plastic bag crinkles every time I move. There is a strange whooshing noise, and my bag rustles louder than ever. Frowning I look up and stop dead in my tracks. Further up, there is a tall familiar woman, blonde hair tied back, wearing dark clothes that blend in with the night around her. Her back is to me, but she's stopped and turns, revealing a face I didn't think I'd see.

"Rebekah," I breathe, staring at her like an idiot. She walks towards me, earrings swinging with every step.

"I thought it was you," she murmured, her tone giving away nothing. I want to smile, and demand to know where she's been for the past week, or maybe hug her and make up. But I remember the fight we had before, and I want to apologise but from the strange detachment on her face, I don't know is she'll listen to me. _Go for it anyway,_

"I'm sorry," I blurt, and the blonde frowns at me. There aren't any streetlights along here, and I only have the moon for guidance on her facial features. But she stands in between it and me, a silvery halo surrounding her, but her face shrouded in darkness. "For what I said, before Homecoming. I didn't think about what I said, it just... Came out, I guess. I know that's terrible, and I hate the way I made you feel. But since now, I've never really had to worry about it and I'm sorry... I really and truly am." I finish, a little breathless. _My God, we're a closet rambler,_ someone in there sounds horrified.

"You really mean that," Rebekah whispered and from her tone I can imagine she's frowning. I nodded furiously, not wanting any other rubbish to come out of my mouth.

"I don't think anyone has ever been sincere to me in my life," she's still whispering and sounds a little shocked. My heart aches. _Really? I know dad wasn't, but whenever Mike said something, he was heartfelt about it._ I wanted to ask, _Not even your parents?_ but I feel that it's not the right time, given that we've never discussed family at length.

Ten minutes later, we found a bench and we're sat side by side, and my butt is freezing, the bag, and some of the contents due to a rip, sprawled at my feet. "Why did you leave?" I ask, and the girl beside me heaves a sigh.

"I guess everything got to much," she laughed weakly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "My brother, my father, my mother... I guess my family messed me up," she gulped, eyes sliding down.

"So... It wasn't me then?" Part of me is terrified for her answers. Her eyebrows knit together.

"No. At first, I was so angry, but I knew where you were coming from. Felt like that once," she mumbled in that tone that implied for me to drop the conversation. We sat in silence for a few minutes, Rebekah like a statue, me pretending to be one but the cold metal underneath me had my squirming.

My phone buzzed to life, Mike's name springing up. He rarely used a phone, which gave me enough incentive to pick up, only to listen to him tell me to get myself home in the next five minutes. I'm paraphrasing what he said, as it's a little too rude. I feel embarrassed but Rebekah couldn't have heard what he said, so it was fine.

I got up, picking up the dead bag, holding the bottom to help prevent future spillages. I smile and wave one hand trapped under the bag awkwardly and she copied me. Turning to go, I stop, spinning to look at her. "I know you said your brother lied to you, but when you left, he did seem genuinely upset by it. I know that family can do messed up things to you, but at the end of the day, they're still family." I say, and Rebekah looks stunned. _I really hope she and Klaus make up, _I thought as I left and glancing over my shoulder, I see that Rebekah had disappeared to. _Family should stick together._ A voice snickers at me, _Well aren't you a hypocrite?_

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><p><strong><span><em>Reviews Review<em>**

**Before I start, thank you to everyone who reviewed. Many of you said that Caroline seemed a little out of character- I do agree that she is an amazing character, especially after season 2 and the show lets us see their personailtys change, but mainly in regard to each other. I wanted to show that as teenagers, they may still go all 'Mean Girl' on unpopular people like Sarah.**

**Just felt like I should point that out. Review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I hope by now you've realised what to do- Read, Review, Favourite and Follow.**

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><p>It wasn't my dad, just one of Mike's old colleagues. We shared that awkward conversation of- <em>"I know your dad. Good man, good man." "Really?" "Yeah, we served together. Well, when he was a lot younger than me anyway!"<em> Then after, I retreat to my bedroom, sleep calling to me and the two senior citizens get to relive their glory days downstairs.

School on Thursday and Friday are good, with Rebekah back in but she's... Different. Before, she was more showy, and arrogant, not caring if she stepped on people's toes. Now, she still retains those traits, but doesn't get involved as much, and sometimes, it seems like she's avoiding the Elena Gilbert gang. Though, it meant we spent lunch time together outside, something that was nice and dreadful at the same time. We got to know each other better, but sometimes it felt a little awkward as neither of us wanted to bring up certain subjects.

Saturday morning rolled around with work, and so I found myself washing out cups and restocking the coffee machine. At a table near the counter, two women were babbling excitedly about a 'ball' being held at Mikaelson Manor. I froze, the cup slipping and splashing into the soapy water. _Mikaelson? Like Rebekah? Why didn't she tell be about this?_ I wondered and a horrible thought answered. _Maybe she didn't want you there,_

It was crazy and stupid, but made sense as well. I wasn't popular, or a founding family, I had no obvious place in the close-knit society of Mystic Falls. Why would you invite an outcast when trying to impress someone? Or in this case a town? I huffed, ignoring the painful thoughts and focusing on the work. _I can ask Rebekah later if I have to._

Mike arrives at twelve to pick me up after my shift and we amble into the Mystic Grill. I find a table, close to Elena and Caroline, déjà vu filling me. So, I sit down where they have a clear view of me, as Mike strolls up to the bar for drinks and a club sandwich. They are twittering on about something, while I inspect my hands, rubbing a tiny burn on her index finger.

"Careful Caroline," my eyes widened at the familiar voice, hardened with hatred, but kept them on my hands. "It's all well and good until she stabs you in the back." Rebekah sneers and I can imagine her glaring daggers at Elena. _Wow, Mean Girls fight of the century,_ I think and glance up, not being able to resist the promise of a fight.

The blonde towers over the two sat at the table, platinum hair swept into a ponytail, wearing the same leather jacket she was wearing Wednesday. The brunette frowns up at Rebekah. "What are you doing here?" She asks roughly, "I know your mom's rules, no terrorising the locals." Caroline folds her arms, like _yeah?_ I roll my eyes at them.

"Get over yourself Elena." Rebekah mocks, "It's not all about you." She notices me, and flashes a smile before spinning on her heels, marching over to Matt, who's sorting through dirty glasses. I can't hear what she's saying to him, but it watch along with Caroline and Elena anyway, enraptured. The cheerleader pulled a white envelope out of her bag, presenting it to Matt, and the jock bobs his head at whatever question she just asked him.

"Oh my God! She's inviting him to the ball," Caroline exclaimed, sounding like a stereotypical gossip girl. My heart sunk. _She'd invite Matt over me?_ I think sadly. _Of course she would, he's popular and hot. What about you?_

"Probably to get this reaction from us," Elena dismissed it with a wave of her hand, still frowning at the blonde pair. Caroline huffed, slumping back in her seat, arms folded across her chest and pouting. She murmured something to her friend, and Elena murmured back, before both got up and left stiffly.

Rebekah smirked victoriously as the two walked past her and sauntered over to my table, silently taking a seat. I opened my mouth, but Mike's arrival cut me off. "Who are you?" He grunted, though sounded politer than usual. I still winced at his gruff tone. The blonde smiled charmingly at him.

"My name's Rebekah, I'm a friend of Sarah." She announced, and he peered over at me, as if for confirmation. I nod, hoping she can't see me from the corner of her eye. If she did, she didn't comment. Her smile is disarming and I can't help but smile back but Mike is still stiff as a board. "There was something I needed to talk to you about," Rebekah said, addressing me and I raise an eyebrow.

Reaching into her bag, she plucked a white envelope identical to the one she gave Matt and gave it to me. It was the bumpy, expensive kind, with my name written on the front in curvy, gorgeous handwriting. Delicately, I pried it open, aware of the two sets of eyes on me. A regal, printed envelope, told me I was _formally invited to the Mikaelson Ball._ A childish, girly part of me wanted to squeal at the idea of a ball, but I quashed it. Instead I passed the note onto Mike, letting him read it. "The invite extends to you as well," Rebekah added, but the older man still looked unsure.

"I'd love to go," I murmured, grinning at Rebekah, who smiled back. Mike grunted, taking a sip of his drink. The blonde's hands knitted together. And for the first time, she looked... Nervous, like she wasn't sure of herself. This was a look I was every comfortable with, but I had never seen it on Rebekah.

"Also, I was wondering if you'd like to come to a sleepover at my house," she said, though it sounded more like a suggestion. "It won't be tonight, because of the ball, but I thought tomorrow, especially since we don't have school on Monday..." She trailed off, waiting hopefully for my reply. I look over at Mike pleadingly. He shrugs but scowls into his drink. I nod, smiling ecstatically, and Rebekah's shoulders slump, like she's relieved. _At least, I hope it's relief._

"Great, I'll see you tonight!" She gushed, getting up. "It was lovely to meet you Mr Adams." Rebekah added, smiling at the man who said nothing in return. This didn't seem to phase her but she nodded one last time, with a promise to text later, and left, all the while I was screaming on the inside.

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><p>Not to sound sexist, but the moment I got home, I pretty much raced upstairs, throwing open my closet doors. I know it's like three pm, and the ball- I just love using that word- isn't until 7:30, but you can never have too much time to prepare. Especially with my wardrobe, that consists of shirts from the bargain bins at supermarkets, jeans I have had for 3+ years and shoes that are pretty much falling apart. And don't forget thrift shop buys, which is about half of my wardrobe.<p>

_I need to make an impression. _This can be my chance to show off, to be the beautiful swan and not the ugly duckling. Turn peoples heads going, _wow, who is that beautiful, sophisticated woman?_ Even though I know that they won't say it. But they might think it.

I have a total of three dresses, and that is a massive number for me. One is too casual, the other too summery, as well as not quite fitting right anymore. The last choice is definitely my first pick, and seems so out of place next to faded colours, and ratty clothes.

The dress had been bought for me, but not by me. Instead, it was from a woman my dad used to work with, for a fancy formal event I had to attend with him. It was a pale grey silk, like clouds in the morning, with a V neckline scattered with sequins and plastic jewels. Soft and smooth to touch, with vibrant, but not too bright colours flashing through the skirt, rippling and billowing as I moved, like living fire. There was no real back to it, only a thin, transparent mesh. It was like beautiful and delicate and mature, giving shape to a person I wished to be.

No doubt it was expensive, and I hadn't stopped thanking her since. I've only worn it once, and now I have another excuse. _Why are we so excited about this dance? _A part of me wonders but I shrug it off. _Because every girl dreams of being a princess._

Okay, it didn't take me three hours to get ready, more like an hour and a half, the rest of the time either lounging on my bed lazily or pacing my room frantically. At around half four, I jumped in the shower, scraping off the first layer of epithelial cells, applying a load of scented body wash I'd gotten for my birthday. I was going all out for this- I even wore makeup, though just a light brush of it. My hair has two settings, dead-straight or frizzy and this time, I put curlers in my hair, yes the plastic ones you used when playing hairdressers as kids. But, it worked, sort of. Enough to give my hair a wave and some bounce.

I padded down the stairs, gently in my tiny grey heels, surprised seeing Mike at the bottom. He had also made an effort, dressed in a black suit with no obvious wrinkles, a comb dragged through his hair and then gelled. He looked quite nice, and smiled when he saw me. "You look so grown up." I laugh under my breath, not used to getting compliments. He hugged me, before holding out an arm for me to hold onto. "And just like your mother." He whispered. I blushed at that, and suddenly, Mike let go of my arm, strolling back into the kitchen.

He came back, holding an old disposable camera that looked like it had seen better days. "Got a few shots left, might as well be a belle like you," He mumbled, fiddling with one of the buttons. _God Mike, it's not a prom,_ I thought. _Not that you've ever been to one,_ someone snarks. After a few quick snaps, the camera is dumped on the stairs and I am ushered out of the door, even after reminding him I wasn't the one holding us up. We were walking as Mike didn't feel like driving, especially as he was mainly going for the alcohol.

The driveway was big, long and stunning and I hadn't even reached Rebekah's house yet. Laid with pale bricks and white twinkling fairy lights wrapped around lush, green, perfectly-trimmed trees and bushes, it felt like a scene from a modern day fairytale. The entrance was just as lovely, the two building wings reaching out to the arriving guests and a fountain in the middle of the arcing drive tinkling pleasantly, droplets occasionally catching the light and shining. All the windows along the outside of the house were lined with lights, ornate, wrought-iron doors flung open in welcome. Classical music from a live orchestra chimed, drifting through the air. I watched as posh, fast cars smoothly pulled up to the house and was glad I had decided to walk, even if it hurt my feet.

Grasping Mike's hand, we wandered up and into the house and my eyes widened appreciatively, mouth falling open. Almost everything was white; black and white tiles on the floor mixed and danced, creating intricate patterns with white walls contrasting with the dark wood staircases twining in the middle of the room, each laden with dazzling lights curving up and around the atrium. I felt like it was very Roman, with towering marble pillars and the dark skirting on the second floor. _Woah. I knew Rebekah was well off but... Woah._ Mike left out a low whistle, gaping all around us. "Blimey," he mumbled. Blimey didn't cover it- you could fit our entire downstairs in this one room.

The people of Mystic Falls were stood in little groups of twos and threes, not many bigger than that, chattering happily. Most were downstairs though a few pairs had ventured upwards along the stairs and on the second floor. Ladies dresses were the only bright, bold or daring colours in the room.

Suddenly, Rebekah melted from the crowds, grinning from ear to ear. "You made it! And wow, look at you!" She practically squealed, and I wondered if she'd already helped herself to a few drinks. I laughed though, smoothing my dress self-consciously.

"Thanks, you look amazing too." I said, meaning every word as she grinned down at her own dress. It was a deep green, silk, ruffled yet fitted dress. Matched with simple silver jewellery and her golden hair kept down but twisted neatly gave her a timeless, effortless, elegant look.

"Mr Adams, you look particularly dashing," Rebekah teased Mike, and he fiddled with a lapel, the tiniest bit of colour reaching his cheeks from the attention. He cleared his throat and I smiled, happiness settling pleasantly inside of me. "Both of you look wonderful," he said and the blonde winked at me. I couldn't hold in my little giggle.

"Every man in the room shall be jealous of you, having such a pretty creature hanging on your arm." A joking voice declared from behind Rebekah and she stiffened, irritation flashing across her features.

A young man with dark hair and eyes, an impeccable tuxedo and a grin made to melt insides stepped forward, joining our conversation. He smiled at me, lifting my hand and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. I blushed at the action and this time, both Rebekah and Mike stiffened. "I'm Kol Mikaelson, it's a pleasure to meet you," he purred, wearing a devilish smile.

"Mikaelson? Are you Rebekah's brother?" I asked and he laughed, though it felt like he was laughing at me rather than with me.

"Yes and unfortunately I must steal my sister away, though she'll be back later," he promised, grabbing Rebekah's shoulders, steering her away through the crowds. Mike scowled at his back. "I don't like him," he grunted and I rolled my eyes.

"His family invited us here," I reminded him and Mike pulled a face. "Still don't like him. Guys like him only want one thing and it sure ain't a handshake."

Gradually Mike and I moved to stand at one side of the door, a surprisingly steady stream of people coming to greet us and chit-chat. This included Mayor Lockwood, who seemed to have forgotten she'd believed I was responsible for Tobias Fell's murder. She nattered away to Mike, who was only half-listening, gently tapping the champagne flute with his finger, me drowning out the conversation entirely. I glanced at the door, and watched Elena Gilbert strut inside, looking like she had escaped a picture.

She was wearing a princess-like ballroom gown of a dark top but creamy skirt, black mess with silver sequins stitched over the skirt, shimmering every time she moved. Her dark hair was curled, tumbling like a waterfall over one shoulder and both Salvatore brothers went to meet her. She linked arms with Stefan, then Damon before walking through into the ballroom, eyes scanning the room for someone, not giving me a second glance.

"If everyone could gather please," a deep, strong, accented voice echoed throughout the room. Instantly, the music stopped and the chatter died down, everyone's heads turning to the staircase. There stood the suit man, this time in a more formal version of his previous outfit, hair slicked back, holding a glass. _My God... Is he related to Rebekah as well?_ I think before I can stop myself. His features weren't clear but I could tell he was in his late twenties, and looked quite a lot like Kol. _It's just a good looking family, _I marvelled, glancing at Rebekah and her older brothers, all striking different stances on the staircase, like they were on the cover of a magazine. I knew Klaus and Kol, leaving to unnamed brothers.

"Welcome everyone, thank you for joining us," next to the elder brother speaking, Kol finished his drink, head leaning to one side, wrist with the glass to the other and shrugging, as if to say _that's alright actually._ A blonde woman in her late forties glided gracefully down the staircase, and the son speaking looked over to her. "You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it's tradition to commence the evening with a dance. Tonight's pick is a centuries old waltz, so if you all could find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom." Noise broke out once more as the Mikaelsons descended the stairs.

I froze, but Mike jolted me and we joined the throngs of people heading into the ballroom. I snuck along the walls, watching people pairing up and taking their places on the floor and I was glad I wasn't the only one not dancing. As the music started. They formed two lines, marching in time with the music, like they knew all of the steps. Rebekah looked wonderful, holding hands gracefully with Matt and behind her, Klaus had partnered with Caroline, sending glances at her every few seconds. _Aww... That's so cute!_

The couples managed to twirl and spin in time, as if it was choreographed. The women spun, moving fluidly from one partner to the next, and I relaxed at the scene unfolding. It was strangely calming to watch. Rebekah followed Damon Salvatore's lead, though her eyes never left Matt, who was now dancing with Caroline.

After the dance, Rebekah appeared next to me. "How come you didn't dance?" She asked, sounding a little judgemental and I tensed up. I brushed it off and shook my head.

"I don't really dance," I admitted sheepishly and she nodded looking thoughtful. Questions were burning in my mouth and so my curiosity got the better of me. "Four brothers huh?" Rebekah stopped scanning the room and looked at me, obviously thinking I was done talking.

"Yes," she mused, but her focus was elsewhere. "Four older, overprotective brothers. You've already met Kol and Klaus, which leaves the elder ones, Elijah and Finn." She said and her eyes lit up somewhere over my shoulder. I followed her gaze to see Kol flirting with a group of Junior girls from school. "Excuse me," Rebekah muttered before strolling over to her brother, shooing the girls away and two of them huffed.

"I can last about five more minutes of this political BS," I jumped at Mike's gruff voice.

"Stay for ten and you get free champagne," I teased and he grunted, mumbling something that sounded like _'not as good as bourbon.'_

Rebekah's mother floated along the staircase again, crystal chiming as she tapped her champagne flute. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Waiters are coming round with Champagne. I invite you all to join me in raising a glass," as she spoke, a waitress in an all black outfit came over with two glasses on her silver tray. She treated us warmly, but there was a strange blankness in her eyes.

"It provides me with no greater joy, than to see my family back together as one. I would like to thank you all for joining us for this _spectacular_ evening. Cheers!" To most, she sounded happy but her tone was... Unsettling, as if there was a hidden meaning in her words. _Remember, paranoid_. Mrs Mikaelson raised her glass and around me, everyone copied her. Flutes were lifted and hesitantly, my mouth hit the rim and I leaned the glass back. I took a small sip, strangely surprise at the fruity flavour and swallowed. Making a movement a little like Kol did earlier, I chugged the rest. _That doesn't taste half bad._

Mike gave me a look, and it shrugged, still smiling. "Alright, we can go." I say and he grinned like a kid at Christmas.

Near the entrance, Rebekah was arguing with her brother, Kol. "Don't be so predictable," he hissed, glaring down at his younger sister. Quickly, he glance cup and noticed me, schooling his features behind an impressive, uncaring mask. The blonde spun around. "You're leaving?" She asks, sounding confused.

I nod. "Yeah, I have work at the cafe tomorrow morning." I smile and Rebekah nods back. A little further away, Klaus and the suit brother, either Elijah or Finn, are talking about something, the blonde brother smiling a few times. Kol has managed to disappear from view, but Rebekah draws my attention back to her.

"We're still on for tomorrow night, correct?"

I turn back to her. "Yeah, what time do you want me over?" I ask, trying not to let my excitement show. Rebekah smiles as well, but she seems as excited as I feel. "Around five should be good. I'll see you then,"

I hugged her quickly. She seemed startled at first but wraps her arms around me as well. "Bye."

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><p>"Wait up!" I call out, teetering on the spot, fumbling with pulling off my shoes. Ahead of me, Mike sighs, face to the moon before looking over his shoulder expectantly. I moan when the heels pull free, bare toes stretching out wards, squashed for over two hours. I jog to catch up with him, hair bouncing a little, my shoes still in my right hand. "Okay, now we can keep walking." I grin and Mike frowns playfully. He reaches over to ruffle my hair and I duck his oncoming hand.<p>

We're past the fountain when there's a thudding noise behind us. We both tense up, Mike reaching behind him for the weapon that's not there, decades on The Force led to hardened reactions. Behind us, a body in a tuxedo lay motionless on the ground, another man standing over him. He straightened and the pale skin and inky hair screamed Damon Salvatore. In a tumbling rush, the Mikaelsons, apart from Kol,filed out onto the doorstep, staring down at body.

My eyes widened, a hand covering my mouth. The body _was_ Kol. Stefan and Elena rushed out as well, looking horrified. Mike took a few steps forward and to the side, hiding me from view, an arm out behind as if to shoo me away if it gets bad.

"What's happened?" He shouted and the Mikaelsons heads shot up. If I had been paying attention, I might have noticed how Rebekah paled and her eldest brother's mouths thinned. Only Klaus remained jolly.

"No need to panic. It seems my brothers run his mouth again. He'll be fine tomorrow, that is, if mother doesn't find out," he joked, but there were hard lines on his face. Mike didn't seem to relax, shoulders still tensed, muscles standing out in his throat.

One of the unknown brothers stepped closer to us, and Mike took one step back. "It's alright, my brother will be fine and I need you to leave now." He said in no soothing tone, and Mike and I both relaxed.

"Bye, bye," I murmured, almost sleepily under my breath before turning around and walking down the drive, Mike in step with me the entire time.

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><p><strong><em><span>Reviews Review<span>_**

**Yay! Quite a few of you have realised that Sarah's father is Gibbs from NCIS. This isn't that much of a crossover as NCIS and NCIS: LA (probably) won't come into this story that much. So if you don't know the show, it's okay. However, I do love the idea of Elijah being chewed out by Gibbs, Fornell and Mike Adams (Franks).**

**Though I may put in little reminders or references to the show, it's not vital that you know the NCIS world to understand the story.**

**But for anyone who does watch the show- who do you think the woman who bought Sarah's dress was?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Another Chapter! But this time, nothing to do with the Show! While I can write Sarah into almost every episode, I feel she needs time out of it as well. So here we go!**

**Read, review, favourite and follow!**

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><p>The coffee maker whistled and screeched, shaking a little, and I stifled a yawn. <em>It's too early,<em> I thought unhappily, the scent of coffee not waking me up as much as I'd hoped. It was 8:15am on a Sunday morning and there was a total of five people in the cafe, two of them staff. Sylvia had actually sat down at a table with two customers she knew well, a businessmen sat in a corner table, finishing up his bagel and espresso.

"Do you serve tea here?" My head shot up at the familiar accented voice, but I turned around slowly. _Oh God_. It was him. Suit man. Holy mother of sin man. He who makes my knees weak. And just from that _accent_. I was almost scared to turn around, and find it wasn't him, just a figment of my sleep-deprived brain.

The voice and accent, and the faraway view I had gotten before hinted at beauty, but what I saw surpassed my expectations. He, the Mikaelson, had dark hair, like his brother Kol, but it was shorted and spiked precisely to give a casual, _I woke up like this_ look. Unblemished skin with just a hint of tan, high cheekbones, a straight, Roman nose, teasing lips and a dimple in his chin completed the picturesque face. _Look at his eyes!_ An internal part of me groaned. They were deep brown, like melting pools of chocolate, with hints of lighter patches, as if his eyes couldn't decide what shade they'd rather be.

I could feel heat rising in my cheeks and I curse mentally. _No! Don't do it! Don't start crushing on Rebekah's big brother!_ A voice whines back, _but he's so pretty!_ I hadn't spoken yet, just blinking stupidly. "Ah-" my splutter only added to the idiotic appearance I seemed to be wearing. "We have a selection, though they're mainly fruit teas." _Good, you somehow managed to regain some of the small amount of respect you had before._

His eyebrows knitted together, creases appearing. _Focus Sarah!_ "Earl Grey?" He asked, pouting a little and I nodded, suddenly glad I could serve him a drink. _Wow, you're getting pathetic._ Hey, I'm usually an honest person, and I was no stranger to crushes. They all started the same; See a nice guy who has the time for you, or at least doesn't seem too horrible, he smiles, you smile back and get a fluttery feeling inside. Then you start seeing him more often, around school or town, and you'll keep getting that feeling, and so you look at him, hopefully inconspicuously, like you can't control it, your eyes wandering over to him without thinking about it.

That was what I was doing, peeking at the unknown handsome Mikaelson in front of me, hoping he couldn't see me gawking. I set the cup and saucer down by the kettle, he wasn't acting like he was going anywhere, examining a comfy looking armchair in the corner of the room with a perfect view of the rest of the cafe and the street outside. His eyes snapped back to me as the kettle whistled, steaming rising from the spout. I felt strange how he scrutinised me, most customers regarded me with bored, or darting eyes, yet he watched like he was waiting for me to do something. _He's waiting for you to finish dolt._ A crisp twenty dollar bill was waiting in his hands by the time I served up. Who even uses twenties to pay for tea? _Rich folk, you twit. Just his presence seems to be melting your brain._

I passed his change and he smiled charmingly, dimples appearing in his cheeks. _Oh boy_. "Thank you Sarah," he said smoothly, putting the change in his pockets and my forehead creased a little. _How did he know?_. The Mikaelson heard my unvoiced question. "Your name tag," he elaborated and without thinking I glanced down, feeling like an idiot when I saw it. "Plus Rebekah has described you almost perfectly."

That sent chills down my spine for two reasons: the heavenly voice and that Rebekah had apparently told her brothers enough about me for them to be able to single me out.

As predicted, the man took his tea to the armchair, snatching up a paper from the stand on the way by. "Also, if you were wondering, I'm Elijah. Elijah Mikaelson." He drawled, before smiling and turning away. Meanwhile I think my legs turned to jello. I blushed and glanced away, spinning around behind the counter, trying to find something distracting to do.

It worked for a few minutes, especially as the businessman got up abruptly, leaving behind a cup with dregs at the bottom, a plate with a buttery knife and crumbs all around. Taking a cloth with me, I clean up after him, lip curling a little at the fifty cent tip he'd given. _Thanks I can get a whole lot from that,_ I thought sarcastically.

"Will you join me?" Elijah Mikaelson's smooth voice asked from behind and I jumped, startled, the crockery in my hands rattling. I blushed without meaning to. _Would you stop that? No blushing in front of him!_

"I don't think I'm allowed," I whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear. His paper was flattened to the table, spread out but not read.

"I'm sure you can join me until this place gets busier than I shall allow you to return to your work." He said, motioning to a wooden chair near his table. It sounded like he had made the decision for me. I put the tray back on a neighbouring table, sliding into the seat Elijah had offered. He inclined his head, as if glad I had chosen to do it. _Not that much choice mate._ There was silence, as if he was waiting for me to speak.

"Is your brother alright?" I blurted, sick of the uncomfortable tension. Elijah frowned. "Kol? He passed out last night," Suddenly the man nodded, as if realising what I was talking about. _Thought it would've been a bigger deal,_

"My apologies, I have three brothers, I wasn't too sure which you were talking about," he said, smiling faintly. "No Kol is fine. Well he was when I left, but mother hasn't seen him since last night,"

I smiled, looking down. "I can imagine how that conversation will go." Elijah smiled as well, though it seemed more sincere now. "I think it will not be pleasant for my youngest brother." The conversation fluttered and died like a candle, and the Mikaelson went back to inspecting me. It felt strange, never before had I wanted to pass someone's scrutinising before.

"Not many people can become good friends with Rebekah," he remarked after a few seconds. I froze at those words, eerily similar to too many people in this town. Everyone in Mystic Falls seemed to know Rebekah and I were friends, even people with no children knew. Her status in school society had dropped a little because of it, but she was still a powerful player in the high school game, as a hot, blonde cheerleader. But with a nerdy light brunette friend.

My chin quivered a little and I glanced at him doubtfully. (Is this why he's here? Because his sister's too good to be dragged down by me?) This man managed to bring up all of my insecurities in a way other teenagers couldn't. The butterflies nestled in my stomach froze, shattering like ice.

"Understand me Sarah, that is not a bad thing," I looked up at him. _Huh?_ "My family have always been moving around, not settling in any one area for long periods of time. While my family can be charming, Rebekah has never had a friend that she would invite to our home like she has done for you."

His deep brown eyes were shining with honesty. "I thought I should take the time to meet such a woman." _How did he do that? Turn my body to mush? I've known him for under five minutes and somehow, he can say things that make my spirits soar? What?_

I shrugged my shoulders, rubbing my fingers over my palms, not looking at him. He unsettled me. Not like the way people at school or Carol Lockwood did. I couldn't relax properly around him like I could around the majority of the Mikaelson family. "It seems that Rebekah has told you everything about me," I retorted and he smiled, looking down at his lap, lips moving out as he ran his tongue over his teeth. _No, don't go there Sarah. Don't._ I flushed a little at where my train of thoughts was heading and stopped it before it reached its destination.

"She said that you were a quiet, intelligent girl who welcomed her to Mystic Falls without any ulterior motives, and has always been there for her since. Even after a few family revelations." Part of me was thinking_ 'you just proved my point'_ but another was going_ 'Rebekah said that?'_ "However, she failed to mention that you were an avid woodworker." I frowned at him. I hadn't told anyone, how did he know? "Your palms," Elijah admitted, glancing over at mine. "I have known many over the years, even tried the skill myself though I don't have the inborn talent that I'm sure you have. All woodworkers have identical hands."

I snapped them back to my body. While I liked my hobby, my ability and the soothing relaxation it gives me, I don't like the toll it takes, especially on my hands. They weren't thin or delicate or smooth anymore. They had a nimbleness to them from all the sketching but I can't remember when they were soft. My uncurled fingers stretched, the pads of my fingers and palms raised and hard, framed with the start of white layer lines of hard skin, unlike the hands of Rebekah or Caroline. No other girl my age had hands like mine.

Elijah seemed to sense my distress. "Identical hands. Hands that wield power. Hands that can create beauty. Hands that are stronger than they seem." He smiled gently and I smiled back the most genuine smile of my life.

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><p>Someone was shaking me and I woke with a jolt, almost head butting the assailant. Mike had better reflexes than I realised, stepping back just in time to miss my head. I grumbled sleepily, swatting at him and rolled over. "Wouldn't do that," Mike said, "it's half four." My eyes were wrenched open, and I threw off the bed covers flailing. <em>Crap! I'm meant to be at Rebekah's in half an hour!<em> I jumped out of bed, a lot more awake than I felt a few seconds ago, the panic clearing the haze of sleep. _What am I gonna take?_

Mike had apparently left my room somewhere between the panicked awakening and the hasty dressing. My school bag was slouched over in the corner, books thrown out, strewed across the bedroom floor. Extra underwear and a clean shirt along with my nicest pyjamas were stuffed in, along with my toiletries. "Need a lift?" Mike yelled from downstairs and I had never been more grateful for him. Dad wouldn't have done that. I ran down the stairs, bag bouncing wildly, and slowly Mike pulled the truck keys from the bowl. "Got your phone?" I patted down my pockets before dashing back to my room. "Now I do," I called and the old man grumbled, taking my backpack out with him while I locked up.

Mike stalled in front of Rebekah's house and I could see a face in the window. The truck rumbled noisily, the door creaking as I slammed it shut. I felt out of place, in my fraying jeans and rusty orange truck outside such a decadent mansion. Rebekah was waiting at the door, light spilling onto the white-stone porch. "That's your car?" She asked, sounding a little shocked, and a bit snooty.

I nervously fiddled with the strap of my bag, the roar of Mike leaving proving the blonde's point. "Well we can't really afford a different one," I murmured, and we stared off at different points silently. _Great, not a good start to the evening, especially when I'm spending the next sixteen or so hours here. Just great._

Rebekah lunged for my hand, dragging me inside with a fair bit of force. _Man, cheerleaders are stronger than they look,_ I thought. The decorations from last night had all been taken down but the manor still looked amazing. She led me through the entrance/atrium and through to a pair of double doors that had been locked during the ball. "It leads through to our living area," Rebekah explained, and I nodded vaguely, wondering if she realised what she sounded like saying 'living area'. _Like royalty._

Glass French doors opened revealing a long corridor with another winding staircase at the end. Neutral-colour walls and dark wood panelling gave it a classical look and Rebekah led her through one of the ledges and stepped down into a living room. _No door?_ The floor had melted from marble mosaics into modern wood with a thick, sinfully-soft rug spread between three dark leather sofas. Big, floor to ceiling antique shelves were pressed against two walls, tightly packed with leather bound books, a few giant volumes nearer the bottom were studded with gold, titles written in what looked like Latin. A thin, sleek TV that would fit in better in a cinema hung on the wall above an open fire. Logs were already piled, un-lit, but still felt inviting.

Rebekah flopped onto the nearest couch while I stood there, clutching the strap of my bag a little awkwardly. "Oh, you can just put that anywhere," she said, waving her hand around the room vaguely. Gently I set my bag down next to the sofa, but not where it was in the way.

"Ah, Sarah! It's lovely to see you again." Klaus' smooth British voice called and I looked over my shoulder to see said blonde leaning against the wall, smiling pleasantly. I grinned back and the man stepped down nod do into the room, closely followed by Kol. Rebekah narrowed her eyes at her brothers, glaring with no real force behind it.

"This is a girls night. You need to leave," she dismissed, pointing at the non-existent door. The brunette Mikaelson in the room snorted and pulled a face.

"What are you planning 'Bekah? Manicures? Pedicures? Pillow fights?!" He wiggled his fingers and eyebrows, and I couldn't hold in the giggles. The teasing seemed so natural to them, but there was a strange tension between them, like age old grudges were still in place and they were acting out characters for me. _Go with the flow Sarah. Don't stand out._

The cheerleader huffed, and leaned over to grab a shiny MacBook Air, flipping it open and typing away. "Honestly Rebekah, not done your slumber party homework?" Klaus shook his head mockingly and Rebekah rolled her eyes, still looking down at the laptop.

"We could watch movies," I suggested, and Rebekah made an agreeing noise.

"It's on this list," she mused, flicking through internet pages. I shrugged my shoulders, glancing at them all in turn. "What movies have you got?" I questioned and everyone seemed to stop. Kol frowned a little as Rebekah looked over the top of her laptop at her elder brother, who glanced warningly at the two younger Mikaelsons.

"We have Netflix." Klaus said finally, and I nodded slowly. _Do they really have no DVDs? Even Mike owns a DVD, and we don't have the player! _"My family haven't watched many films," the blonde man continued. "Maybe you can educate Rebekah." Said girl shot him a furious look tinted with embarrassment, as if she didn't want people to know she didn't watch movies a lot.

I smiled reassuringly at her. "Where do you wanna start?" I ask and she ducks her head again. "How about the classics?" I asked and Klaus rolled his eyes.

"There are a lot of _classics_ love."

"Okay, have you seen Mean girls?" Cue blank look. "Juno? Legally blonde? James Bond? The Matrix? Avengers?" I sighed, a little glad she hadn't seen them. _Like we need an excuse, but she might._ "Well we know where to start."

The blonde man laughed. "Oh I think I may have to impede on your movie night just to watch Bekah's reactions." _'Bekah'_ glared at him, making the man laugh harder. Kol had looked a little puzzled while I had rattled off popular movies, but seemed to have relaxed, but confusion was still buried in his eyes. _Who doesn't watch movies? Or hasn't even heard of them?_

"Niklaus are you annoying our guest?" Elijah's beautiful voice floated from the doorway. I jumped and Kol snickered under his breath next to me. _Geez Sarah, calm down. Get your heart rate under control. It's not like he scared you that badly._ A different voice snickered. _That's not the reason your heart's racing. _I blushed a little, fighting to calm down. The handsome man behind me didn't help. "Good afternoon Sarah. I hope my brothers are being courteous." He greeted and I bobbed my head quickly.

"No, no they're fine."

"It seems you have been introduced to the rest of my siblings," a new man said as he stepped out from behind Elijah. He had dark hair and dark eyes, but his face was more angular than his brother's. "Finn Mikaelson." He introduced and I nodded politely. "Sarah." I murmured.

"Pleasure," he responded just as politely as I had spoken, but there was a faint undercurrent of annoyance, or boredom, like he didn't truly care. Which I could understand as the boring friend of his little sister. Tension began to build as the silence grew. Klaus tossed the remote at me and my fingers splayed out to catch it. I fumbled for it but it sailed past me and I tensed for the horrible clattering noise it would make on the floor. It didn't come. The remote was held in the corner of my vision, a grey block in the slim hands of Elijah. _How come I didn't hear him walk up behind me?_

Rebekah cleared her throat, giving her brothers a pointed look and got up. "Alright, now you've all said your piece, you can shove off. We're in here, so off you pop." A few of the Mikaelson men snorted but wore similar glimmers of hooded affections. Obediently, they left in a messy line and Rebekah bounded out of the room as well. A second later, her head popped back round and smiled at me. "The kitchen is the room opposite. There's snacks in there if you want to get some for us." I nodded mutely and did as she said as she ran up the stairs. Her brothers had also disappeared, lurking in other rooms, melted into the shadows. And for some reason, I was strangely upset by it.

I liked spending time with the Mikaelsons, even when they seemed shallow or manipulative. I could unpick them, and wasn't too fazed by their rapidly shifting moods.

The kitchen was big, spacious and classically elegant like the rest of the Mikaelson house. With spotless metal appliances and white plastic cupboards, it felt very moderne compared to the rest of the house. _Okay Sarah, pick a cupboard, any cupboard._ I went for the nearest one, and found plates and glasses instead. _Alright... Go for the next one._ I found cereal, biscuits, pasta and spices before I found the snacks. The Mikaelsons seemed to be minimalists, cupboards as bare as mine back home despite the four extra mouths, but the 'snack cupboard' was almost overflowing.

Cheetos, Lays, Oreos and M&Ms practically sprang from their shelves. _Holy crap, they really like junk food... Why are there three cans of Pringles?_ I chucked one of the popcorn bags into the microwave and grabbed the bag of M&Ms. Hunting for a bowl, I finally found an, unsurprisingly, metal one as the microwave dinged, the faint popping noise slowing down, the smell of pure, buttery, fatty heaven slinking from under the door. I hurried back into the living room, arms laden with delicious goodies and Rebekah waltzed in a heart beat after I'd sat down dragging two thick blankets with her.

"So, where do we start?" The blonde asked as she draped a blanket over the side of the sofa and dropped down next to me. While I'd been in the kitchen, she'd changed into pyjamas, a white tank top with fashionable patterned bottoms. _Geez, even my nice pyjamas look ratty next to her 'casual' ones._

I shrugged. "I think we need to start with _Legally Blonde._" I reached for the remote, hitting the start button. "Have you seen it before?" Rebekah looked down, a little embarrassed, and shook her head. I grinned, "I think you'll like it."

An hour and a half later, the screen flickered and the cheery chords of the theme tune began to play. Somewhere around the thirty minute mark, the popcorn had been snatched by the hogger next to me. Her eyes had widened, leaning forward, her pale face illuminated by the bright glare of the TV screen. I stretched my arms, shoulders popping. It seemed to snap Rebekah out of her stupor, jumping back into the sofa, clearing her throat.

"So?" I waited for the cheerleader's verdict.

"I enjoyed it," she shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. _Please, no one leans that far forward for just an enjoyable movie._ I smiled and raised an eyebrow sarcastically.

"Really? Just enjoyed?" Rebekah rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiled.

"Do you think that the stubborn guy- Warner?- looked like Mr Saltzman?" She asked, and I frowned at the screen. It was prattling off the names of the actors, but I could still picture the guy she was talking about.

I smiled and raised an eyebrow sarcastically.

"Really? Just enjoyed?" Rebekah rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiled.

"Do you think that the stubborn guy- Warner?- looked like Mr Saltzman?" She asked, and I frowned at the screen. It was prattling off the names of the actors, but I could still picture the guy she was talking about.

"Well- No- But- Oh my God!" I gaped, processing the information. Rebekah was in hysterics beside me but I was too busy with my own revelations. _Sarah! You've seen the film before, how did you not notice?!_ I opened my mouth, but closed it, no words coming out. I tried again. "Huh?..." I sounded so upset, sending a recovering Rebekah into another fit of giggles.

"Is there another one?" Rebekah asked once her laughter subsided. She sounded so excited.

"They did make a sequel but it's rubbish compared to the first one," I informed her, and she pouted a little.

"A different one then?" She was negotiating. _I didn't think Rebekah and compromise belonged in the same sentence._ I nodded and she began happily scrolling through Netflix's extensive movie collection before settling on _Mean Girls,_ that grin never leaving her face. It was nice- sitting here in the Mikaelson house with Rebekah next to me and a casual, relaxing air permeating everywhere.


	9. Chapter 9

**And part two of the sleepover! Hope you guys liked last week's update, and that you enjoy this one as well!**

**Read, Review, Favourite and Follow!**

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><p>At around nine, Kol wandered back in, clutching a stack of boxes. His sister peered at him curiously, but all I could focus on was the greasy, tasty cheese smell wafting from the pile in his hands.<p>

"What are you watching?" Kol asked, setting the boxes down on the (very nice) mahogany, carved coffee table. Hey, I'm a woodworker, we notice these things. The blonde was frowning at her brother.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, and the brunette smirked, making himself comfy, sprawled across the entire sofa to the left of the one I shared with Rebekah.

"What does it look like?" He countered, flaunting the 'Mikaelson sass' they all wore quite well. Even Elijah and Finn could place masks on their faces that spoke of annoyance- more commonly known as the face accompanying a _'Bitch please'_. "Plus, you haven't answered my previous question."

Bekah rolled her eyes. "Just finished Mean Girls." She muttered, picking at loose threads in the blanket. It was warm and snugly, perfect for sleepovers. Suddenly, she glanced at me, smiling. "Oh my God, you can't just ask people why they're white!" She quoted and I laughed. The brunette Mikaelson just looked confused, but bobbed his head anyway, glancing at the credits rolling off the screen.

"We're watching Casino Royale next- y'know, the James Bond movie." I said and he nodded, turning back to the screen, looking vaguely interested. Though, at the same time, he looked troubled and I felt that he didn't have a clue about what I was talking about. _Everyone's heard of James Bond, how does he not know?_

I nudged the cheerleader and leaned into her. "Do you wanna invite the rest of your brothers in?" She looked at me like I was crazy. "Kol might be intimidated by having two women in the room without any male backup." The man in question was staring at us from the corner of his eye, but I ignored him. _It's not like he can hear me_. "Just one action move with your brothers, we can share the pizza, that Kol brought, and then we can kick them back out." I urged, and Rebekah was thinking about it, when a wicked smile showed on her face.

"Only if you let me give you a makeover." She announced and Kol laughed. I turned to frown at him. _Could he hear us? How? We were talking quietly and the tacky movie music's still playing? No, he's laughing at something else._

I huffed and nodded and Rebekah squealed loudly, clapping her hands together. Kol was still laughing uncontrollably. As per promise, Rebekah leapt out of her seat, sauntering out of the room. I pushed buttons and flashed through the DVD menu until I found the right one. _This is kinda awkward_. "So..." I started and Kol looked at me over his shoulder. "What pizza's did you get?" _What pizza did you get?! You wanna start a conversation on that? What's wrong with you?_

The Mikaelson shared my sentiments. "... A selection."

Luckily, I was spared from the torture of examining my awful social skills, as the rest of the family glided in. I was a little surprised, thinking they wouldn't agree, but obviously Rebekah was a better negotiator, or black-mailer, than I realised. As the elder brunette brothers walked in, Kol grinned, showing off snowy-white teeth and crossing his legs over the seat next to him, very openly marking his territory. Elijah and Finn both raised eyebrows but walked over to the remaining couch and sat down, crossing one leg over the other identically. _Like two hot peas in a pod._

About a minute after Klaus strolled in, wiping a thumb over his lips, like he'd just had a drink. The rest of the Mikaelsons tensed up. Only Kol was relaxed about Klaus' arrival. That is, until he realised next to him was the only free seat. The brothers narrowed their eyes at each other, not wanting to make the first move. I could almost see the mounting tension.

_Geez_. I huffed and got up, shocking all of the Mikaelsons, eyes snapping from the brothers to me. I stomped over to Kol, lifting his legs and sitting in the vacant seat, before letting his legs lie back across my lap. I shifted under his legs, plumping a pillow by my side. They were all still staring at me. Elijah's mouth had fallen open. I glanced at them all. Klaus was still stood by the door, gap, _place_. I raised an eyebrow at him. The blonde blinked. "I'd rather you two didn't murder each other while I'm here." I elaborated, shrugging. They were all still facing me, openly gawking. "Even if it means putting up with stinky feet for two and a bit hours." I reached over for the remote, and the screen flickered to the opening scenes of the movie.

Kol had pulled a face. "My feet aren't that smelly!" He complained, pouting a little, looking a lot like his sister when he did. "And I don't think Klaus could dagger me." The teasing tone had been dropped, a tiny amount of venom in his words, a vicious smirk directed at the brother now sat next to Rebekah. I frowned at his words, and surprisingly, Finn was the one to step in, seeing Klaus open his mouth to retort, and shushed them both, indicating at the TV, then relaxing back into the sofa. The rest of the Mikaelsons glared at the youngest son, who didn't seemed fazed, but soon focused on the movie.

Slowly, the buzzing atmosphere relaxed, soothed by the silence and input of Daniel Craig. I was still puzzling at Kol's jab. _Dagger me? Huh? Wouldn't you say stab me? _My train of thoughts was cut off by the smooth, velvet voice of James Bond, and I soon forgot all about the little verbal spat that came before.

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><p>I yawned loudly and Finn looked a little shocked and bewildered, still staring at the TV. "So this man travels the world, killing people and sleeping with unknown women?" He asked, almost cautiously and I nodded. "And there are several different ones of these movies?" I nodded again. "Why did he kill the man at the end?"<p>

"Because he was the one that got red-dress killed and stole the money."

Elijah stared at me, amused. "Red-dress?" He repeated and Klaus was grinning, watching us like a tennis match.

"Well I don't keep up with the names, plus everyone knows who I'm talking about." I said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Vespa," he informed me, still smiling gently. I shrugged again, taking a bite of my pizza slice. The pizzas had gradually been devoured through the film, and I was glad Kol had the sense to get three. I felt a little bit bad; I think I are more than them, around five slices while the rest of them only ate three or four. Though it was fun watching Elijah get up around forty minutes into the film and return with a paper towel to rest his slice on as he tore it apart. Both Kol and Finn had eyed their pizza skeptically before the younger took the plunge, mimicking mine and Klaus' messy movements, rather than Rebekah's delicate bites.

Rebekah tosses the blanket to one side, throwing it purposefully over her blonde brother, stretching her arms. "Alright, get up." She ordered, pointing at me. I froze, unsure of what she wanted as Klaus faux-glared at his sister. "Your promise?" She reminded me and my eyes widened, suddenly apprehensive of that determined gleam in her eyes. Not waiting for my reply, she grabbed my hand, dragging me put of the room. All of the Mikaelson's grinned at my predicament. Kol gave me a little wave as I left and I mimed dragging my free hand along the wall as if searching for something to cling to and stop Rebekah. The only problem was when my foot caught the step and I stumbled and one of the brothers snorted. _Nice coordination Sarah._ I scowled, _shut up._

Rebekah was positively beaming now, laughing at my pathetic attempts to slow us down. I hadn't realised just how strong she was until now. _Okay, don't pick fights with cheerleaders- they're buffer than they look._ She pulled me up the stairs and through a corridor until we reached a pair of glossy, cherry-wood, double doors. Even then we didn't stop; Rebekah flung the doors open, tugged me through her bedroom and into her en-suite. It matched the rest of the house with dazzling porcelain, gleaming metal and marble counters. The blonde opened a drawer under the sink, pulling out curling tongs and other torture instruments. "This is gonna be fun," she promised and inside I was dreading it.

"Why are your eyes closed?" Rebekah's musical voice echoed around the big bathroom. _Seriously, you could fit Mike's entire bedroom in here._ It was true, my eyes were closed. All I could see was the strange orange light filtering through my eyelids and Rebekah's laptop was sat to the left, on the toilet I think, playing some kind of pop music quietly. After the curling tongs had made an appearance, pots and slides and brushes and wands had followed, coating the surrounding surfaces, lined up like surgical tools. _Dear God, what have I gotten into?_ By then, my eyes had squeezed shut and had stayed like that.

"I'm scared," I mumbled and the cheerleader snickered in a very un-ladylike manner. "Very rude," I muttered and the snickering grew louder.

"You need to trust me," she teased and I wanted to shake my head, but she still held it in a vice-like grip. She was brushing something over my cheeks.

"How long is this gonna take?" I complained to my kidnapper, and the girl, presumably in front of me, laughed.

"Hush! You can't rush perfection!" While Rebekah might've said that to make me feel better, any happiness sank like a rock. No matter how good Rebekah may be with a few specks of blush and some hair product, we both knew it wouldn't be perfection. I could never look like perfection, like heaven walking on earth. Especially when in a house with the Mikaelsons. They were perfection, angels. The beautiful creatures of fairytales with their fair looks, melting accents and lovely manners. I am the ugly stepsister next to Rebekah's Cinderella looks.

A hissing noise startled me, and I jumped, only to realise it was the curlers attacking my hair. "Relax," Rebekah chided and I huffed but did so. "Well there is a good thing that comes from not peeking," Rebekah remarked. I frowned, tilting my head and the curlers hissed again. She straightened my head with an iron grip. "It means you'll be star struck when you see yourself." I laughed quietly, and Rebekah fell silent. "Why don't you believe me?" The blonde asked bluntly, sounding as though there was a pout on her face.

I sighed shrugging and I could almost imagine Rebekah's bemused face. "Because I can never be pretty or beautiful or drop-dead gorgeous," I left the _like you_ out, but it hung in the air anyway as if I had spoke it. Rebekah inhaled deeply, becoming tense and silent behind me.

"I guess I'll just have to prove you wrong," Rebekah finally muttered and I scoffed internally. _I don't think you can, _I thought bitterly, awful thoughts churning through my mind, like it was a sea, and the tiny glimmer of hope I sometimes felt about my appearance was a rowboat rocking dangerously on the tip of a wave.

"Okay, eyes need to open in three, two, one... Sarah!" Rebekah exclaimed. "When I say one, you're meant to open your eyes!" I almost laughed at the playful tone the cheerleader had adopted. Like her brothers, she had the power to change like the weather, bright and sunny to storms and lightening in a snap of the fingers. "Don't make me mess up your make-up to force those eyes open," she threatened and sighed as I stuck my tongue out at her, refusing to open my eyes. _It's not like she can force me._ She huffed again and suddenly whispered, "Open your eyes."

I don't know what happened; it was like hypnosis and I let it wash over me, accepting the order with no complaints. I almost gasped.

Whoever was in the mirror wasn't me. She was sleek, stylish and elegant in that modern and casual way. She was beautiful. My hair only reached to just below my shoulders, not a great length to do anything with, but somehow Rebekah had. The blonde had brushed it out of its usual side parting and flipped it over to the other side, and it curled everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Even my sort of fringe, which was just a little shorted than the rest of my hair, was now in sleek, soft ringlets resting against my forehead. They hung down, rather than springing out wards, casual yet smart, perfect for any occasion. _Stop right there Sarah, this isn't some kind of YouTube tutorial._

The makeup matched the hair. _Which it would, Rebekah was in charge._ She had managed to even out my skin, any prominent freckles running away in the eternity Rebekah had me sat in her en-suite. The cheerleader had swept silver across my eyelids, not enough to standout, but to showcase my eyes. _The cliché term you're looking for is 'makes my eyes pop!'_ She had also traced a thin, dark line of eyeliner as well, though as I stared at myself, in the least vainest way possible, it was navy, not black. My lips looked two different colours; a lighter cherry blossom pink outlined in a darker shade, drawing attention but not over-bearing. The look was completed with a dusting of blush across my cheekbones, which I deepened using a natural method. _Holy cow I look amazing._

The blonde was grinning victoriously, arms crossed in a_ 'told you I was right'_ way. I sighed mentally, knowing she wasn't going to let me get away that easily. "So what do you think?" Rebekah asked, the lilt bordering sing-song. _I knew it._

"It's amazing," I breathed, "I look amazing."

"Of course you do," Rebekah dismissed in a bored tone, fluffing her hair in the mirror. "I was the one that did it." She caught my eye in the mirror and we both broke out in smiles.

Somewhere in her mansion, a clock chimed, striking twelve and a funny feeling hit me as I descended the staircase. After my impromptu facial reconstruction, or re-prettify, Rebekah had tugged me back downstairs, telling me that her brother had recently bought a dance game for the Nintendo Wii. By this point, I was little concerned about all the noise we were making, especially since it was after midnight, and the whole house seemed deserted. Or at least, we hadn't run into any other Mikaelsons after the Bond movie.

Every light was still lit, every room illuminated, as if they never turned them off. _Geez... Wouldn't want to see their electrical bills,_ I thought. Rebekah giggled, sauntering over to the Wii console, turning it on, pressing buttons on remotes and opening game cases. _I've never her seen her so... Playful._ I observed with a tiny frown. Rebekah glanced back at me. "What?" She asked, reverting back to her usual tone, a similar one she used when I first saw her in History.

"Nothing!" I replied, maybe a little quick, and her eyes narrowed. "It's just- won't we be waking up your family?" I asked. The girl shook her golden head.

"My brothers are up all the time, we won't bother them. Plus if they don't like it, it's not like they can't go somewhere they can't hear it." I nodded slowly at her words, slightly confused by her choices. _'Somewhere they can't hear'? So like their rooms? Why doesn't she just say that?_ I wondered, and answered myself. _It's Rebekah._

The familiar beating tune of Just Dance boomed from the TV speakers and I lunged for the remote. Rebekah pouted as the volume bars disappeared off the screen. "C'mon! Half the fun is letting them grumble!" She said and I laughed.

Big neon letters blazed to life on a black screen. Rebekah flicked through the songs, finally settling on one she liked, and smiled brightly at me. I tried to return it, but I'm not sure it worked.

Five songs later, I collapsed, but Rebekah still had energy. _She's like a gas molecule,_ I thought. The blonde bounced over. "Alright! What do you wanna do now?" She asked, voice buzzing like she was on a sugar high. I looked at her like she was crazy.

"Sleep!"

She pouted but consented, flopping down on the sofa next to me. Reaching over, she pulled out the TV remote, getting rid of Just Dance, and turning over to Netflix. I groaned, resting my head against the couch cushions, shutting my eyes. "What?" She asked innocently, and I glared at her. By now, most of the makeup had probably been wiped, smeared, or sweated off. "We'll put on a movie and you'll drift off halfway through, and I'll still have something to do after you drop." She stated, looking directly at me. I blinked, _she does have a point..._

I decided to try and save the conversation. "So, what are you gonna watch?" Rebekah shrugged her shoulders, scrolling through the options. She stopped at one, "Is that Jane Eyre?" She sounded so excited.

I glanced up at the screen, seeing the giant faces of Mia Wasikowski and Michael Fassbender and nodded. She smiled brightly, clicking it. Seeing my face, she explained, "I've read the book."

"So did I," Rebekah looked shocked at my statement. "Seeing your excitement, I don't think I enjoyed it as much as you did." Thunderstruck was a good word to describe the cheerleaders face. "For me, it was just a bit too dry, and Rochester annoyed me." _I didn't even know she had read it- didn't think she was a big fan of reading._

"...annoyed you?" Rebekah almost shouted, flabbergasted. I jumped, and she shook her head. "Annoyed you..." She grumbled and I laughed.

* * *

><p>True to Rebekah's words, I drifted off during the Victorian story turned movie. While it was a nice story, it just wasn't the kind I liked to read, though obviously it was Rebekah's. From the very beginning, she had been enthralled, sat forward in her seat, mouth parted, and I fought the urge to giggle. I was too sleepy to do so.<p>

Unfortunately, that meant in the morning, I was the one awake first. The clock on the other side of the room ticked seven twenty am. Somehow, during the few hours I had been sleeping I had managed to slide down the sofa, so my torso was straight, my legs sprawled over the floor awkwardly, and I felt stiff all over.

Groaning quietly I sat up, rubbing my neck. Rebekah was fast asleep on another couch, curled up comfortably, a blanket over the top of her. A similar one was on the ground next to me. _I don't remember that being there when I went to sleep... Did Rebekah put it on me and then I just threw it off? So nice to random acts of kindness Sarah._

As stealthily as I could, I tiptoed out of the room, peeking at the sleeping girl when I reached the corridor to make sure I hadn't woken her. She was still out. I sighed happily, and strolled into the kitchen before freezing. Inside was Elijah and Mrs Mikaelson. Both were staring hard at each other, like they had been having a fight and both heads twirled towards me. I wilted under the double glares.

"I- uh- I can come back..." I stuttered out, flushing a deep red, drawing my arms over to cross my body, trying to make myself smaller. Elijah leaned back on a counter, the glare melting into an impassive mask, and his mother did the same. She smiled warmly at me, but there were tiny cracks in her facade, and I could see the force behind it.

"Nonsense my dear, I was just having a discussion with my son." She lied smoothly. I nodded, glancing over at said son, who was still staring at his mother. "I understand you are Sarah, yes?" She asked, and I gulped. This woman set me on edge, made me nervous. She had an air of power and superiority, and it gave me chills.

"Yes Mrs Mikaelson." The blonde woman waved her hand.

"Please, call me Esther." She smiled very similarly to Rebekah, but the cheerleaders was always more genuine when it showed. She also had that strange cunning, wickedness around her that most of her children showed. Kol and Klaus wore this trait quite openly, and I had even seen Rebekah with it. I was yet to see Finn and Elijah with this trait, but I'm sure it was there. "I hope my family were courteous last night?" She didn't sound too interested, eyeing her oldest son, as if she was asking him instead of me.

"Yeah... I had fun last night, even if I feel like I'm gonna drop any second now." _Yeah, that's right Sarah, awkward small talk with a woman you're trying to impress. Nice._ Esther smiled, still not looking at me.

I decided to try again. "They were all really nice to me," I started, and that got her attention. She spun to look at me, and Elijah's eyes widened at me over his mothers shoulder. For him, it was like shaking his head frantically, mouthing 'No!'.

"Really? All of them?" Esther pressed, and I began to wilt again, any previous confidence leaving me, something I noticed happened a lot around certain Mikaelsons. "I can understand how you've bonded with Rebekah, even Elijah and Finn if you have. But how Klaus and Kol?" I frowned at what she was implying. _Did she seriously say that about her own kids? _"They do not make friends easily." She added, obviously realising how that sounded.

My voice box had stopped working and I just simple nodded helplessly, floundering under Mrs Mikaelsons gaze. She frowned, but left it at that, holding a cup that had been waiting behind her on the counter before walking out. As soon as she left, I let out a breath, not remembering the other person in the room. He chuckled a little, probably at me, and I froze, realising who was in here with me. _Oh God Sarah._

"Interesting," he murmured, picking up his own cup and taking a sip. "I hadn't realised how attached you were to my family." I blushed, thankfully not stuttering. Elijah took pity on me, and left, and I willed my heartbeat to slow down. _Could've been worse._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10, whoo! Also, when I last checked, about three hours before upload, there was a hundred and one of you following, thank you sooooo much! Enjoy more ElijahSarah action. **

**Also, I'm elongating episode 15 (this one and chapter 11) just because I need it for Sarah, otherwise she misses too much.**

**As always, Read, Review, Favourite and Follow**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 10<span>

I laughed, and Mike pulled a face. "Still don't like it," he muttered, and tears started to roll down my face. He was glaring down at the bowl on the table in front of him. With my first official pay check, I bought us our customary lunch at the Grill. Naturally, he bought a club sandwich, while I, after a weekend of snacking, went for a salad, with a bowl of fries between us.

Now, the old man was frowning at my fork, stuffing a few fries in his mouth, as if to get rid of the taste. "That flavour, y'know, is called healthiness." I teased and he grunted.

I had spent most of Monday lying around, finishing off some last minute homework and hiding in my basement, making no noise and pretending I don't exist. Tuesday had gone well, though Elena kept glancing at Rebekah throughout the day, as if waiting for something to happen. Naturally, the blonde ignored her, as well as deflecting my questions on why it might be.

My shift at the cafe went well on Wednesday. Surprisingly, a certain Mikaelson was there when I arrived, hair impeccably spiked, suit as dashing as ever. Two women at the table next to him kept glancing furtively at him, but he didn't bat an eyelid. I didn't know how I felt about that.

He had already been served, sipping his drink delicately. I steered away from him, never getting too close. _Why? It's not like you like him? Right?_ my thoughts made me stop. I didn't, right? It's like rule number one, you don't crush on friends brothers. Plus, I turn eighteen in February, he wouldn't be interested in a girl that's barely legal. Elijah would want a supermodel, sophisticated, intelligent sort of girl. And I didn't fit that bill.

If you've guessed, around half five, any patrons in the cafe start to leave, and we don't tend to get anymore. The Mikaelson seemed to be an exception, looking very relaxed as people arrived and left around him, twice ordering a refill, putting his paper to the side, playing with his phone, tapping away at the screen at an almost inhuman speed.

Angela was out, leaving early as one of her kids was sick. "Down with measles," she had fretted earlier, before pressing a key into my hand. "You wouldn't mind working a weeny bit later right? Most leave before six, so you'll only need to wash the last few bits and bobs before locking up." My boss pleaded, giving me that doe-eye look, the one where you feel like a bad person to refuse. _You're not doing anything tonight, apart from bugging Mike and locking yourself in the basement. Do it, she'll pay you more._ Yes, I am simple enough to be persuaded by the promise of money.

That left me in the kitchen, no one in The Red Bean but me, washing plates, with the radio playing a little louder than usual. "When I was your man," I sang along with Mr B. Mars, soapy suds sticking to my fingers, dripping as they were drawn out of the lukewarm water in the sink.

"You have an interesting voice."

I shrieked, spinning around, a cup clinking as it sank to the bottom of the basin. I raised my sudsy hands, as if the bubbles would protect me, only to meet Elijah with a hint of a smirk on his lips. _No, that's too good of a look for you mister._ "What the heck are you doing here? Giving me a heart attack?!" I demanded, panting and bracing my hands on the counter behind me.

"I heard someone singing, and I came to investigate." I cringed internally at his words, I knew what I sounded like.

"No, I wasn't murdering cats." I muttered and his lip quirked again. _Stop that!_

"I wouldn't put it like that," he tried and I shook my head.

"Yes you would. Anyone would. I know I'm not the next Adele and I didn't think anyone was here to be tortured..." I peered at him curiously. "Why were you in here, I thought you went home?"

Elijah did that half smile thing, like he expected me to know the answer. "Actually, I was here to offer to walk you home." He said and I stiffened. I had seen his house, his _manor_ and mine did not compare to that. It had six rooms, all pretty small, and the Mikaelsons had closets bigger than my room. I didn't want him to see that. He could probably tell I wasn't rich like him, but if he saw, he would see just how much worse it is.

But how do you turn him down? He doesn't look like the kind that gets turned down often, nor the type that makes these offers regularly. Plus, I don't think I want to turn him down. He obviously didn't expect my hesitation either, judging by a strange, almost frantic look in his eye and his falling face. "I thought it would be safer than you walking them alone," he added, as if trying to coat me. He shoved his hands in his thick jacket, looking like he wanted to shuffle his feet. _Am I making him nervous?_ I thought, a weird excitement settling in my stomach at the notion. _Of course you're not, it's most likely something else._

My mouth opened without my consent, words tumbling from it. "Yeah thanks. Can you wait a few minutes while I finish this?" I blushed at my own words, wondering where they confidence came from. Elijah looked a bit surprised as well, nodding mutely before wandering back out into the cafe. I suppressed the urge to squeal loudly, knowing he'd hear me, and turned back to the dishes. _Why can't this be like Beauty and the Beast, and you're self-cleaning?_ My fingers shook, but I relaxed, dropping them back into the now cooler water, not wanting to hold up the Mikaelson outside.

He seemed so out of place here. With expensive shoes, long navy coat and cheekbones that could cut ice, he would look more at home on the cover of magazines, or on runways in exotic countries. Not in no cutesy cafe with nice cake and mismatching furniture. But the smile as I walk in erases any thoughts like that. All thoughts actually, but I don't think I care if he keeps smiling like that.

He holds out an arm, like we were in an old movie, and I flush, looking away, brushing past him. He acts like he expected that. I turn off the lights as I pass the switch, making sure Elijah is outside before I lock up, taking a few tries as the key slips and slides around the hole. _Geez, if Sherlock saw, he'd call me an alcoholic._ As soon as I dropped the key back in my pocket, Elijah pounced, interlocking my arm with his, giving me that melting smile. We started walking, nothing but silence around us, and the beginning of awkwardness.

"I need to swing by Sylvia's," I blurted, and he nodded, not questioning it. _He probably thought ahead._

My hand slipped into my pocket as we walked, clenching my phone like it would protect me from the awkward chatting he would instigate in a few moments. And true to my word...

"I would like to ask you a strange question and answer me truthfully." Okay, not expecting that. A more outgoing girl would tease him, _surely you'd save that kind of talk for the second date Mikaelson._ Wait, what? Date? He's walking me home, not taking me to the Ritz, which judging by his 'casual' suits would be one of his 'date places'.

I nodded, and he took a deep breath. _Oh God, he's not going to ask me that question right? No course not- shut up and listen._ "What did you think about my mother?" I blinked, a little unsure how to answer that question. I feel that if I answered truthfully, I would offend him, and why would he want to know? Elijah saw my hesitation. "I understand it is a peculiar question, I assure you, and that you have only spoken to her once but I do want to know what you think." He implored. "As truthfully as possible," he added.

"I don't know. She acts more like a matriarch than a mother." I started.

Elijah cut me off. "What'd do you mean?" He asked, sounding affronted.

I blushed. _Do I want to anger him? No, just stop talking, you've done what you thought you would, so just say sorry._ "Sorry," I squeaked, not nearly as well as I was planning, but the look on Elijah's face softened, and he motioned for me to continue. "Well, er, it's more like she's the power head, y'know than the caregiver. When she talks about you or your siblings, she doesn't sound as proud as other mothers. And, like when she looks at you, see looks more cold and distant than most. If that makes any sense at all." I stuttered out at last, trying to hasten my rambles.

Elijah was frowning, staring off, probably pondering what I had said. "I may not be right," I mumbled but he caught it anyway. His frown added years to his face, his darkened eyes murderous, and I unconsciously leaned away, shivering.

"I think you are," he whispered hoarsely, a steel undertone and for a moment, I felt afraid. The same fear I woke up to after a nightmare a few weeks ago. An unnatural fear, an irrational fear of a man with a strange look on his face. I gulped wetly, the fear clawing at my insides. What the heck? Suddenly, Elijah looked down, breaking away, ripping his arm from mine. He sighed deeply before turning back to me. The grimace on his face faded. "I apologise."

Nodding slowly, I returned to his side, though didn't take the arm he offered. Silence regained it's hold over us, and Elijah looked too caught up in his own thoughts and revelations to notice me.

The Anderson residence looks like the picturesque American dream, complete with a porch and swinging chair, and a white picket fence, small shrubs growing along the inside. When we got there, I popped the key through the letterbox, hearing someone crying inside. Elijah looked as calm and collected as ever, though frowning up at the house, probably hearing the kid as well. "Her son's got measles," I explained and he nodded disinterestedly, going back to staring ahead. _Damn_, I cursed, _this is why your meant to lie to people Sarah. They don't like it when you tell them the truth._

"Where are your parents?" Elijah's sudden question struck me. _What?_ Seeing the look on my face, he hastily added, "I apologise, I did not mean to intrude, I am just curious as to why you live with a man called Mike, as you have told Rebekah he is not your blood relation."

I gulped, rubbing the palms of my hands with my thumbs. I didn't tell people why, I just expected them not to ask. They didn't really care beside as Elijah pointed out, curiosity, so why should I tell him? _You're going to anyway._ "Forgive me, I shouldn't have asked." He murmured after the pause became too long. I shook my head.

"My mum and my sister died when I was a baby, and I guess I remind my dad of mum..." I mumbled, not looking at him. Why? Why did I trust him enough to tell him? I hadn't even told Rebekah, my only friend but told her brother who I don't know as well? What?

"I'm sorry, I know what it is like to feel like a disappointment to your parents," Elijah's baritone reply rumbled. I half-turned to him, a question bubbling up and before I could stop it, it spewed.

"Why did you ask about your mother?" Elijah sighed heavily, and for a moment I thought he wouldn't answer. "You don't have to-"

"It's a long story." Was his short answer. I looked at him until he glanced back at me, brown eyes almost black.

I shrugged. "I have time."

With another sigh, it looked like I had convinced him. "A long time ago," he started still glancing at me from the corner of his eye. Even though it was probably to see if I was keeping up with the story, it gave energy to the butterflies in my stomach, flittering wings like paper inside me. "While we were growing up, a terrible secret about Klaus was revealed." He hesitated. "It had turned out my mother had had an affair," my mouth fell open. "This, obviously, tore our family apart and my father was very upset at this news. This, in turn, made my mother very angry and upset at Klaus. Then now, she arrives saying she has forgiven us and wants to be a family again? I feel that something is wrong, but my siblings are arrogant, and believe my mother's lies." The last part of his speech he spat out with so much venom, I flinched away from him. His face was murderous; anger evident in every line, eyes flashing and darkening, lips curling back. But the fear felt strange, more like those actions were warning signs against something very bad. Something that felt familiar as well.

I mentally shook myself out of it. _God, what is wrong with you today? You're meant to be comforting Elijah- it's not his fault his family sounds like a storyline out of a soap opera. _"Maybe your both right." The man's head snapped towards me. "Maybe your mom does want to be a family again, but she also still has some... Residual anger, or something, which might be why she still acts weird around you guys." I said uncertainly. I hadn't met their mother much, but I knew that description didn't fit at all.

Elijah seemed to know as well and scoffed. "You said yourself she acts more like a matriarch," he retorted bitterly. I frowned a little at his words.

"But what if I'm wrong?"

"You're not." I was startled by his words. _Huh?_ "It's just... I feel that you're not," he muttered at the end, not looking at me, and that was the end of our conversation.

* * *

><p>We were only a block away from my house, and I started to worry a little. "You know, I can walk from here." Elijah looked at me like I was crazy.<p>

"Nonsense, I've walked you this far, I might as well make sure you get to your door." He sounded like he was smiling. Winter was coming, nights like these dark enough that his hair glowed in a halo formed by street lamps, frost beginning to creep around during the night, freezing cobwebs and blades of grass in place.

"I'm capable enough to do that myself," I argued. It came out playful and light, nothing like our previous conversation.  
>"I have no doubt." Now he was teasing back. <em>Oh my God, is he flirting? No, shut up, don't get your hope up.<em>  
>"That's not what I'm hearing."<br>"Are you questioning my honour?" I could hear offence in his voice, but the smile was louder.  
>"Do you need to ask?" <em>Where did this all come from Sarah?<em>  
>"You tell me." He shot back, and as we passed by another streetlight, white teeth glowed with an orange tinge.<p>

I stopped walking, and Elijah did too, frowning a little. He began to speak but I cut him off. "Thanks for walking me home." I mumbled, shame colouring my cheeks and words. Elijah blinked, glancing at my house.

"This is where you live?" I flinched at the words. In every scenario where Rebekah would come to my house, that tone was always the same; shock, surprise, and that tiny hint of superiority that came with money. I hadn't expected the bluntness of Elijah's words though, thinking of all the Mikaelsons, we would have found a nice way to put what he was thinking. _Not the first time you've been wrong about a bloke._

"Yeah," I nodded, scraping the sidewalk with the side of my shoe. "Can't really afford much else." I could almost feel the clogs in his brain turning, churning out thoughts and ideas I didn't want to here about my sanctuary. "Night," I muttered turning away.

"Goodnight," was his soft reply.

"Who was that you were with then?" Trust Mike to ask that question the minute I walk in.

"What nothing about how work or school was?" I asked bitterly. The old man regarded me for a moment.  
>"Didn't answer my question." His retort was a lot softer than I was used to with Mike. I sighed, staring back out the window. The expensive dark shadow of Elijah Mikaelson was strolling back down the street and I sighed again.<br>"No one." I answered sadly, and for once, Mike backed off.

* * *

><p>Thursday morning was alright. I took my normal seat at the front of the class in History, Mr Saltzman strangely absent, but behind, I could hear Elena Gilbert and her two sidekicks, Bonnie and Caroline raving about something.<p>

"I mean he wasn't even hiding it!" Elena hissed. I couldn't see her face, but I could imagine the snarl. "How could he sleep with her?!" _Uh oh, someone's in the dog house tonight,_ I wanted to giggle. _But wait? Is she talking about Stefan? Cuz I thought they weren't together because she was with Damon? Oh dear God Mystic Falls is a drama show._

Fortunately, my favourite teacher made a grand entrance, and behind me the angry whispers stopped, as well as the few consolations Bonnie tried to fit in sideways. Almost a second later, Rebekah waltzed in, smiling at me before he eyes trailed behind me and she raised an eyebrow in silent challenge to, presumably, the angry teenager behind. _Oh God, Rebekah didn't sleep with a Salvatore did she? Nice to know she declared war on the Elena Gilbert gang last night, and I feel as the best friend to the enemy, I'm going to be dragged into it as well. Great._

I dropped down on the ground with an ungraceful flop, and the blonde rolled her eyes. Rain had caused us to migrate inside to the canteen, as it is was the only place to sit and talk. Or people-watch, but I wasn't planning on doing that today. "Hey" she greeted, and I smiled, not saying anything. I was on a mission after all.

_Just go for the kill._ "Did you have sex with a Salvatore last night?" I questioned. Most people, even if it was true, spit out whatever as in their mouth, go all bug-eye and deny it furiously. Not Rebekah.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, the older one, how'd you know?" She asked back. I wanted to grimace. This could get bad and ugly quickly.

"Elena was telling Bonnie and Caroline earlier." I said, and she shrugged, popping a chip into her mouth. For a skinny girl, I didn't really see her eat healthy stuff. But then again, she had all that gymnastics cheerleady stuff.

"So?"

"Well it could get ugly," I admitted. I was a little worried: just because Rebekah was on the cheerleading squad, didn't mean she was safe. It just meant that people like her more, but it wouldn't stop the wrath of the three BFFs probably already plotting her doom. And possibly mine.

"So?" She repeated, and then crossed her arms huffily. "I don't get why Elena is so bothered." She complained.

"It's because she likes them. Like really likes them."

Rebekah rolled her pretty blue eyes. "Well she's got a funny way of showing it. This morning, she was yelling at Damon, saying how if he wanted to get back at her, sleeping with me wasn't the answer! Huh! Not everything revolves around her you know! And, she's playing both of them! What kind of person does that!" She scowled angrily, muttering something under her breath that sounded a lot like, "just like Katherine."

_Katherine?_ I shook my head, ignoring that. "Just watch out alright? You've just declared war on them." I stated and Rebekah looked at me, annoyed, with a look that read 'do I look like I care?' A bell rang and I got out of my seat, heading off to class, watching around just a little more, paranoid.

Despite the Wednesday Night Tango between Damon and Rebekah, none of the Elena gang retaliated, or at least not in a visible way. They stayed eerily quiet, not taking revenge on the blonde for the deed, or me for association. And I was glad of that, but very creeped out. It was like a chess game, and Rebekah had taken her turn, but Elena was yet to reveal her move. I didn't like it. But here, at the Grill, with Mike present made me feel they wouldn't try anything here, especially since Mike hadn't actually given his gun back in when he retired.

Up at the bar though, Mr Saltzman was chatting with a brunette woman with a nice smile who looked vaguely familiar. She was a doctor, I think, at the Hospital... Fell. Two very familiar men sat down next to the teacher, one blonde, one brunette. Kol and Klaus wore matching smiles but there was no humour behind them. They were cold, calculating and predatory. I gulped, panicking at the tension I could see just looking at it from afar. _Shits about to go down._


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Aaah! Sorry for the wait, but I'm slowing down to every other Sunday! So, enjoy the famous Episode 15 as it is a weenie bit longer than most others.**

**Also, 123 of you are following?! That's crazy! But I feel greedy: so follow if you're enjoying ;)**

**By now, you know what to do.**

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><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

I frowned at them, wondering what was happening. Slowly, carefully, I inch closer, knowing that I might be able to hear them if I do. God, I'm such an eavesdropper. But I'm right, and better, Mike doesn't notice.

"Don't mind us, my brother and I are just here to let off some steam." Klaus said faintly, the words stretched and quiet over such a distance. Kol had stopped staring at Mr Saltzman's date, unblinkingly and very disturbing. _That's not going to win him any points. I mean one, she's here with Mr Saltzman, so probably older than him, and creepy stares don't equal likes._

"Right," he agreed, not taking his eyes off Mr Saltzman's Doctor date. Someone snapped their fingers near my face and I jumped. I glanced back at the old man and he was frowning at me. I copied the expression, glaring at him.

"Hmm?"

He rolled his eyes. "Said d'you wanna 'nother drink?" He asked again, and I nodded quickly, glancing back over at the party of four over by the bar. The tension was still mounting over there. Mike followed my gaze and rolled his eyes. "Woman," he muttered under his breath but I was too entranced to care.

He lumbered over to the bar, dispelling the little group. Mr Saltzman and his date walked away, not without wrapping his arm possessivly around her waist and shooting a glare at Kol. In response, the younger Mikaelson wiggled his fingers. Mike shot a pointed look over his shoulder at me, and I fought the urge to glare.

_He did that on purpose..._ I shook myself. _Am I seriously watching the citizens of Mystic Falls like it's some kind of soap opera. Why yes, yes I am._ I internally rolled my eyes. _Well that's weird, cut it out._

I glanced back up at the bar, watching Mike tapping his fingers against the wood, waiting for whatever poor barman had the discomfort of serving him. Kol caught my eye and grinned, raising his glass. Klaus noticed, following his gaze, and seeing me, bobbed his head briefly before doing exactly what I was doing- people watching.

My phone dinged, and I looked down at it quizzically. The little message sign blinked, flashing furiously, along with a picture of Rebekah grinning. There was another one of her crossing her eyes, trying to look down her nose that I had managed to snap. However, I had been threatened on pain of death to never show it, so the nicer picture took its place. Most of the time.

_Hey,_

I smiled, shaking my head. _Hi, where are you?_

My new drink slides under my nose just as my phone bleeps to life. _Just outside of town. I can't believe I agreed to it._

I frowned in response. _Did your brother ask you to?_

_Yeah! And it sucks! And it's ridiculously boring._

Rolling my eyes, I started tapping away on the screen, ignoring Mike entirely. He didn't seem to mind too much though.

_Who asked you? And what are you doing, cuz two of those idiots you're related to are attempting to drink the Grille dry!_ I knew I was being nosy but hey, insatiable curiosity ran in my family.

_Klaus and Kol are at the bar?_

_Yeah, didn't you know?_

She didn't respond for a while. I frowned, but then grinned, the puzzle pieces fitting together. _So what mysterious errand are you doing for Elijah?_

_What makes you think it's Elijah?_ I can almost imagine her flustered response as if she's here with me. I peer back over at the bar. The two brothers were still as statues, perfect opposites, the dark and the light sharing the same expression as they surveyed the Grille, tipping back drinks faster than Mike could, not looking any less sober.

_Because Klaus and Kol are here, and they both look like the type that don't mind getting their hands dirty. So, what are you doing for Elijah?_ I drummed my fingers on the table, waiting for her reply.

_Waiting for a business deadline to be met._ I re-read it, trying to ignore the ominous tone that lingered in her words. I decided to iterate my question.

_What kind of business?_ Rebekah didn't reply, but even if she did, I don't think I would have wanted to know the answer.

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><p>I finished off my Dr Pepper, not ordering another one while Mike did. I would go home, alone, soon, as the pensioner at my table downed another whiskey. I had no idea how he could drink so much, or where he put it, but I didn't really care. The sky outside had darkened considerably, and I smiled a little, a stupid thought coming to my head. <em>Winter is coming. <em>Hey, I told it was stupid. Rebekah hadn't responded, and I had given up waiting, trying not to feel hurt by it.

Mr Saltzman and Dr Fell, I think, migrated to the pool tables, laughing and chatting. I thought they were adorable together. The Mikaelsons brothers were still here, but they both avoided me, which was normal, I was their little sister's geeky friend.

Suddenly, my History teacher got a call, and he left his date alone. From the bar, Kol was nudging his brother, staring at the doctor. The blonde was shaking his head, but Kol seemed determined. I hope he doesn't do anything to them; I liked Saltzman and Fell together... Right Sarah, stop shipping your teachers. Plus, the way Kol was doing it was creepy, which is weird since when I've met him, he's been pleasant and charming, why won't he be like that now?

Familiar blonde curls bounced past as Caroline strutted past. Klaus saw, smiling faintly and my face split into a grin. _Aww! That's so cute!_ His brother was nattering about something, but noticing the blonde's lack of attention, he turned as well, and spied Caroline.

He smirked, and I listened in shamelessly. _Come on Kol, say something nice._ "I remember her from last night. She looks like a tasty little thing." I wanted to bang my head against a brick wall. Oh God...

Klaus was grimacing, but still staring at Caroline. Both brothers were at this point, and she had seen. "Say another word and I'll tear out your liver," he muttered under his breath and I smiled. Why did all the Mikaelsons use weird words or phrases, and it always sounded like they meant something else?

"Caroline!" Klaus called and the cheerleader raised a thin eyebrow, and smirked humourlessly at the pair.

"Oh, it's you," she sneered. I frowned; I hadn't spent much time with Klaus but he was nice enough and I couldn't understand what Caroline, or any of her friends had against him or his family. She doesn't hate him just because Elena hates Rebekah, right?

Klaus wasn't deterred by her tone. "Join us for a drink?" He pleaded and next to him, Kol raised his glass as a toast. Caroline scrunched up her nose delicately, and bared her teeth.

"I'd rather die of thirst first, but thanks." I winced at her icy words, but Klaus didn't seem fazed, too busy watching her walk away.

"Isn't she stunning?" He sounded so amazed and sincere. Kol mimed stuffing two fingers down his throat, pulling a face.

"Well she certainly looks good walking away from you." I almost wanted to laugh at Kol's snide words but his brother gave him a withering look.

"I'll take that as a challenge." The brunette shook his head, turning back around, flinging a hand out to try and catch the barman's attention. Klaus was still watching Caroline stalk off and silently I urged him to follow her. As if he heard me, which he couldn't since I didn't say anything, he finished off his alcohol and ran out after the blonde popular girl.

I smiled faintly, but something sunk inside. No one would chase after me; I wasn't a blonde bombshell on legs like Caroline or even Rebekah, nor was I an exotic dark brunette like Bonnie or Elena. I was average looking with sub-par social skills and an uninteresting life, no one alive would go for me.

Searching my pockets, I looked up at Mike. "I've forgot my keys." I mumbled, and Mike's head shot up, looking around.

"Eh?" He almost shouted. I cringed at his loud voice; a lot louder than most of the people in here, tables nearby turning to stare at us, including Kol Mikaelson all the way up at the bar. I flushed, not liking the attention. It made me feel uncomfortable, everyone focusing on me, especially when I wouldn't want it.

"I said I forgot my keys," I hissed at him, eyes darting at everyone. Most had turned back around, ignoring the noisy table, but a few were still watching. _Nosy Parkers... Just like me, hypocrite, _I growled. Mike raised an eyebrow and I blushed, realising I had made that noise aloud and looked away. _Geez Sarah, what is up with you?_ Wordlessly, he handed me his set, glaring back down at his empty glass, tapping it roughly against the table.

Quickly, I got up, wincing a little at the loud scraping noise the chair made, but everyone had gone back to their original conversations and discussions, not interested in a mild domestic between two loners.

Outside, Klaus had managed to catch up with Caroline, coaxing her to take a seat next to him. He looked so thrilled, it was sickly to look at. I backed away from them, not wanting to interrupt or overheard them in any way. Though, by going the long way around the square, it was going to take longer to get home, and I wasn't wearing the right clothes for this kind of weather. I wore jeans, long sleeved shirts and jumpers mostly and I wrapped my arms around myself. _You're an idiot Sarah, invest in a frickin' coat for once._

"Haven't you been told it's not good to walk alone outside?" I shrieked at the teasing voice from behind. Elijah was smiling, and I was definitely not. How did he sneak up on me? I'm usually quiet, too quiet, most can't get the drop on me. I want to reach out and smack him playfully. But to do that, I need courage, and I don't have too much of that lying around.

"What's your problem? You don't creep on girls in the dark either!" I hissed, and he shrugged. It was strange how formal he could be, yet with a snap of the fingers, his entire countenance changed.

"I was not, as you so eloquently put, creeping. I was meeting with a few associates on a business arrangement, and happened to see you." He defended himself.

"Was this to do with whatever 'business' you had Rebekah do out of own?" I quipped and Elijah glanced down at me, face stoic. I could see the gears turning, and the question burning on his tongue. "I'm not stupid, and Rebekah tells me almost everything, even about doing favours for a brother and since two of them are sat, nursing whiskeys, it turns to you."

"You have forgotten Finn."

I smirked victoriously; he had practically just said it was him, and he knew it. "No, but I don't feel that Finn is the one with mysterious business."

Elijah arched a lovely eyebrow. "Mysterious business? What do you think I do in my spare time?" He teased, and I smiled. I liked talking to Elijah, he could always make me smile, even if I didn't want to. I wanted to seem mature, not like a giggling school girl. Even if I was that. I shouldn't be in front of him.

"Sit in the Red Bean all day." He smiled, eyes glinting happily.

"You forgot to mention drinking tea." I laughed. Then, I quieted. "You don't actually do that, right?" I asked hesitantly. He gave me a look- the one you reserved for when people acted or said something crazy or stupid. Right now, I felt like both.

"No, I assure you I do things other than buy cheap teas from you on Saturdays and Sundays and Wednesday afternoons. For example, my 'mysterious business'" he mocked, "was with the Salvatore brothers," his lip curled at the name. "And Rebekah is assisting by making sure a deadline is met." Alarm bells should've rang in my head, but the Mikaelson's presence muted them.

I don't know when we stopped walking, but now we stood motionless. We were no where near my house, closer to the square but out of sight of his brother, Klaus, and anyone, like Mike, in the Grille.

We had fallen silent, and tension inside me grew. I wanted... I don't know what I wanted. I think I wanted him to kiss me. Yeah, that would be nice. Really nice... _Don't go down that path Sarah,_ I warned myself. He wouldn't do it, wouldn't want to. I was his kid sister's friend, maybe even his friend, though more likely an acquaintance, nothing more to him. I'd rather not go for it than face heartbreak and eternal embarrassment.

"You know what, I'm gonna head back, pick up Mike y'know, make sure he gets home alright, he's had a lot to drink," I rambled hurriedly. He nodded and suddenly grabbed my hand. I stopped, startled. Slowly, he lifted it, keeping eye contact, and gently pressed a kiss to it. I flushed, my stomach dropping.

"Ah, uh..." Oh God, why won't my tongue work? This is bad, really bad. Oh God, body, what are you doing to me? And why in front of him? Jesus, he'll never speak to me again. Do something! No, say something! Quick!

"Bye," I squeaked and pretty much legged it. What is wrong with me? What am I doing? Oh God, what have I done? Sarah you twit, you were meant to act cool, casual, collected, not like that!

I burst into the Grille, trying to catch my breath. I scoured the room, and there was no sign of Mike. _Did he pass by me? No, he passed by Klaus and Caroline like a normal person would_. Though something else caught my eye instead. Kol had moved from the bar, instead lounging by the pool tables with Dr Fell, Mr Saltzman no where in sight.

I was too far to hear, but I watched them instead - in the most non-creepiest way possible. He seemed to be trying to talk to her. _Woo her,_ I snorted. Though, she seemed to shoot him down at every turn. I couldn't blame her; she was here with someone else, something Kol knew, and he was using an ounce of charm, something he had buckets of. What was he doing?

Suddenly, Kol squeezed up against Dr Fell, backing her up into a wall. I froze. _Geez, what is going on? What is he gonna do? Jesus, is he gonna assault her?!_ He was whispering into her ear, and the woman looked a little scared. Then, Mr Saltzman appeared, just behind the pair. There was something in his eyes. They were cold and dark, nothing like they usually were. His eyes were always warm and happy, even when people handed in homework late.

Kol spun on Mr Saltzman, glaring at the older man. My history teacher grabbed him, holding the Mikaelson like he was hugging him, arms and jaw clenched. Kol jerked in his arms, and Dr Fell stood between the two and the bar, glancing worriedly around the place. She missed me, but I didn't miss them. _Did they... Did they just kill him? Oh God! Wha - How - Oh God!_

Mr Saltzman dragged him over to a door, one I knew led to a back alley which was used to unload goods for the Grille. Why was no one else seeing this? All I could think about was how my teacher turned out to be a psychopath. I stumbled out the main doors, and ran out to the front end of the alley. The side door burst open, light pooling in the gap and Mr Saltzman dragged out Kol's dead body, followed shortly by his date. _I should call the police._ I started to freak out. _What if they saw me and 'silenced' me? What have you done Sarah? What's Mike gonna do? Heck, what's Dad gonna do?_

Two black figures were already in the alley, backs turned to me. "Here, grab him," Mr Saltzman grunted, and one of the figures laughed shortly.

"Well sexy doctor, nice job." My stomach dropped. Damon and Stefan Salvatore. They were involved. _What the hell is going on? Who are these people? It's like they've done this before._

A blur charged into the alley. It knocked into Mr Saltzman and then Stefan, causing the two to drop Kol. In the alley, I couldn't see his face, but I could see a metal dagger stuffed into his chest. The blur pulled it out, and glared at Damon. The Salvatore raised his hands a little, and the blur stopped. I couldn't see their face.

"I should have killed you months ago." The blur spat, and I covered my mouth to keep from screaming. The blur was Klaus.

"Do it. It's not gonna stop Esther from killing you." Damon promised, and the blonde Mikaelson froze. Part of me wondered what Esther had to do with this. Most of me was panicking, shaking violently, but not from cold. I wanted to gasp or run, but something rooted me in my place.

"What did you say about my mother?" His tone was icy, and after 'The Flash' display, I know Damon wouldn't, or shouldn't, sass him.

"Didn't know I was friends with your mummy? Yeah, we have a lot in common, she hates you as much as I do." Klaus grabbed Damon's jacket, pulling him close. Oh God, I think I'm gonna see another murder tonight. I never expected him to stop it.

"Leave him." My shaking stopped, and I glanced up, just like Klaus and Damon. There he stood, at the top of the stairs at the back of the Grille, staring down at the conflict below, like an avenging angel. Was Elijah involved? "We still need him Niklaus."

Oh God he was. What is wrong with this town? Klaus took a step closer to his elder brother. "What did mother do? What did she do Elijah?" Klaus demanded.

Elijah ignored his brother's questions, directing his attention to the Salvatore. "You tell me where the witches are, or I'll tell my sister to kill Elena right now." _Rebekah? Witches?_ Who was he talking about? Was that the 'mysterious business' Rebekah and Elijah were talking? Killing a teenager?

Damon started. "You told me we had until after nine."

"I'm sure Rebekah will be more than happy to start her work early." I could hear a smirk in his voice, and could imagine he raised an eyebrow as he spoke. They were a family of sociopathic serial killers. And then I made a stupid mistake. I took a step back.

My foot hit something - a can I think - but it echoed and rattled in the alley. Everyone's heads shot up, even Stefan and Mr Saltzman. I was gaping; opening and closing my mouth like a fish, staring at them all in turn. I couldn't see their faces, all shrouded in darkness, but they could all see mine, and every emotion on it. "Sarah?" Elijah sounded so confused.

My instincts kicked in, adrenaline pouring into my blood. I took another step back. Then, all of a sudden, Elijah was in front of me. His face was as stoic as ever, but his eyes... They looked _pained._ I felt like everything was in slow motion. He raised a hand, but I stumbled away. I have to run. I flee, but get maybe a few feet and then, Elijah was stood in front of me again.

I lurched to a stop, almost crashing into him. "Sarah," he murmured, as if I was a wild animal, cornered and trapped. I spun again, and this time, Klaus was behind me.

"Careful love," the blonde warned, but he didn't sound too concerned. He took a step forward, and in response, I took a step back.

Elijah repeated my name and I turned again. A hand tightened on my shoulder, and I twisted around. Klaus was there. For some reason, old memories of my dad's survival skills swam to the front of my mind. I feigned, and Klaus read me, catching it. Shame he didn't catch my knee jerking up as he bent forward for my wrist.

The Mikaelson choked out some sort of screech, and I ran forward, only to be caught by Elijah again. He turned me around in an iron grasp, keeping me close, but far enough not to hurt him.

His pupils went wide and suddenly, I stopped fighting. I calmed down. _Wha- what's going on?_ "Stop fighting me Sarah," Elijah's voice was smooth and calming, soothing the panic inside, even after everything I had just witnessed. "You are going to walk home, and the moment you cross the threshold, you will forget everything you saw in this alley." I nodded absentmindedly, mumbling his words under my breath. It was like I wasn't in control of my own body- and I didn't mind.

So, I turned around, with no complaints and did exactly as Elijah ordered me to. It felt like a dream- nothing stopped me, not even traffic, which made me very glad it was late at night. My muscles shook, and I trembled as I grasped the door handle. The door swung easily, and I stepped in and... Nothing.

I frowned, straightening. Why was I hunched over? And was I shaking? Well, it was cold outside. I poked my head into the living room. Mike was passed out on the couch, snoring. I smirked, and stifled a yawn. I don't know why, but I felt exhausted, which I didn't feel earlier at the Grille.

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><p>Something was tapping my window. I groaned, rolling over further into my pillow. The tapping continued and I got up, grumbling. Lazily, I pushed open my window, looking down and immediately sobered up. Below my window was Elijah Mikaelson. <em>This feels very Romeo and Juliet.<em> He smiled, though it didn't look natural and beckoned with a finger. I blushed ungracefully and closed my window, trying hard not to squeal. Quietly, I ran downstairs, and then ran back upstairs to drag a brush through my hair.

I slipped out, and Elijah turned to meet me. "Hi," I murmured shyly, and he nodded in return. I gulped, trying to ignore the tension between us. His hand slid into his pocket, almost nervously.

"I would like to apologise." He said. I frowned, wondering what he was talking about before I stiffened. Was he talking about the kiss? He had to be. He regretted it. I nodded, swallowing a lump forming in my throat. God, what did this man do to me? Elijah hesitated. "I'm leaving Mystic Falls tonight." I glanced up at him, but he refused to look at me. I stared back down at my feet. "And so I need to do something first."

A hand lifted my head. His eyes were like melting chocolate, boring straight into my plain light blue ones. His pupils dilated. "You're going to forget me coming tonight," Elijah's voice was low and hypnotic. "Something woke you and when you came downstairs, there was a letter waiting for you." He purred, and all I could do was stare up at him. Carefully, slowly, he leaned down. My mind was screaming and my eyes fluttered shut.

He was inches from me. I could feel his breath on my lips, and they parted of their own accord. And then, it happened. It was soft, short and sweet. It wasn't quite the fireworks and angels singing I had thought it would be, but it was pretty close. He was holding me, arms wrapped around my waist, and the simple hug felt nice, comforting. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Goodbye Sarah," he murmured.

I opened my eyes, glancing around before looking down. There was a little envelope, similar to the one I got for the Mikaelson ball. My name was written in dark ink, with a beautiful hand. I picked it up, looking back down the street, finding no one. _Huh?_ I tore it open, unfolding the letter. As I began to read, my eyes widened, and my mouth fell open. _What?_

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><p><strong><span>No one's POV<span>**

Rebekah walked into the room, heels clicking with every step. Elijah was at the far end, staring blankly into the flames in the hearth. "Where the bloody hell is everyone?" She demanded.

"It's over Rebekah," her brother stated simply, sounding dejected. The blonde glanced at him.

"Where's mother?" She asked hesitantly, and Elijah laughed bitterly.

"We have no mother, only Esther. And Esther was right."

Rebekah stiffened at his words. "What do you mean?"

Her brother turned to her. "All my talk of virtue but when it suits my needs, I kill, maim, torture. Even today, I terrorised an innocent-"

"Elena is hardly innocent," She butted in.

"I was talking of your friend, Sarah." He shot back, and the blonde stared at him. "She saw the Salvatore's, and their little hunter dagger Kol. She looked so scared of me, and rightly so." He explained, walking around the dining room table towards his sister. "And I used your hatred of Elena to get what I wanted. Wielded you like I would a sword, my own sister." He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"You did it to protect us, and rightly so. We deserve to live, we are better than they are!" She begged her brother to see reason. He only looked at her sadly.

"Are we?" He asked, and Rebekah's eyes widened at his question. "Mother turned us into vampires, she didn't make us monsters. We did that to ourselves." He smiled sadly, walking out of the room, leaving Rebekah alone in the silence with the remnants of their conversation lingering in the air.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Tadaa! Another chapter! I have also very recently (within the last five minutes) discovered that this story is in a community?! That's amazing! Also, I am doing something dreadful - I am time marking this story. I am in too much of Christmas mood, it's seeping over into this chapter, and probably the next one. Plus it makes sense for Christmas to be around this time in the show: More characters wearing coats, and the school term starts in Episode 6. So I am declaring Mystic Falls in a state of Christmas cheer! Sorry its a little short! :(**

**Read, Review, Favourite and Follow!**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

I smiled, rereading the letter. It was so nice, and I was acting like a lovesick teenager. I mean, I was lovesick, and I was a teenager but... shut up. It was so sweet, and so Elijah. I traced the elegant calligraphy and the smile wouldn't be wiped off my face.

Well, except when a certain senior knocked on my door. I scrabbled frantically to hide it, knowing full well what Mike would do, say and tease if he saw it, and eventually hid it under a pile of books. Just in time as well, as the man pushed open the door, and frowned down at me.

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously and I just shook my head.

"Nothing, why?" His eyebrows furrowed and I cursed mentally. _Of course that wouldn't work on him idiot!_ Mike was a master lie-detector; I had no chance of getting anything past him.

"You plannin' anything with that friend of yours?" He asked, still staring at me, not believing a word that came out of my mouth. I shook my head.

"Nah, she's busy..." Even I could hear my silver tongue rusting at my lies. Rebekah hadn't been talking to me and I was avoiding her at all costs. It stung – she didn't show up at school for a few days, and then word got out that her brothers Finn, Kol, Elijah and her mother had all moved out of Mystic Falls. It was only her and Klaus in that big lonely house, and the blonde man was spending more and more time out of Mystic Falls. That had to hurt, but she could've called me. I know I should be supportive but I could've helped her.

Though, then again, she wasn't the only one keeping secrets. I hadn't told her about Elijah's letter to me as I wasn't too sure how she'd take it. As much as I wanted to show her, and blurt how I felt about him, and we'd giggle and plan it out like some sick movie fantasy, he was her brother. _And isn't there some kind of social rule about dating your best friend's brother?_ I asked myself. There probably was.

I caught myself, realising I had stopped speaking. I narrowed my eyes playfully at Mike, "Why? Do you want me out of the house?" I teased and he shook his head, grumbling about women as he left, but I saw the small smile first.

Glancing back down at the pile of books on my desk, I bit my lip, weighing my options. Deciding against it, I don't go back for the letter, instead pulling on a jumper, picking up my house keys and my phone and head downstairs after Mike.

"I'm going for a walk!" I yelled, catching a glimpse of him relaxed on the sofa, looking more a part of it than just sat on it. He shouted a goodbye, flicking on the TV, mindlessly watching some sports match going on in sunnier and warmer places.

It was getting colder as winter approached, and I shivered a little as I walked. I had no idea why I was suddenly urged to go out - all I really wanted was to just curl up and fan-girl over my letter. _Okay, you're getting pathetic_, my mind whispered to me, but I ignored it. When it came to Elijah, I apparently didn't care how bad I was acting. I hope the fresh air will clear my head.

The skies were darkening as I passed the Grille. I thought about going in, basking in the tempting warmth but they would probably kick me out if I didn't buy something, and I had no money. Though someone did, I noticed as I peeked through the window quickly and spotted a familiar face. _Rebekah_. What was she doing there? Well, out of the two of us, she always had more of a social life; I can't fault her for that.

But it annoyed me that she was sat with Stefan and Damon Salvatore, smiling brightly as if she didn't remember me. Well, she probably had other things on her mind. Like the two men in front of her. And not her best friend.

I grumbled internally, and walked away across the Square. What was the point in getting angry? _You knew this would happen, you knew she'd eventually realise what a mistake hanging out with you was_. I shook my head, deciding to move on.

There were bigger things going on in Mystic Falls. According to Mike, Mr Saltzman had been accused of murder. Yeah, I know - I didn't see it coming either. _Are they talking about the same Mr Saltzman who last year for Christmas came into a school in a Scooby Doo onesie when everyone got A's in his test? I mean, it did take a lot of time to convince him, but it was definitely worth it_. His expression as he strode into class that morning, covered in brown felt and black spots and someone, probably Elena, had painted his face to match the costume as well. There was no way he was a murderer. Even if the victim had handed his homework in late.

I sighed, and turned around. I had had enough. Yes, I am a stereotypical teenager, complete with the laziness package; I was allowed to do exercise for about thirty minutes before getting tired, cold and annoyed. It was freezing outside, and I hadn't prepared for the weather. _But it means Christmas is coming_, I thought happily.

Christmas for me was the greatest holiday on the planet. None of birthdays ever passed with any happy memories – Dad would find work or cases to do over my birthday period, which usually meant I would celebrate it with one of his work friends instead when he didn't show up. But at Christmas, he would pull out all the stops, and I would always forgive him for anything because of it. We had the greatest of traditions, things I had taken with me when I moved in with Mike, even if I didn't see him anymore. Now, his job dominated his life.

Then again, Christmas was also the busiest time for my hobby, something I had felt after a few all-nighters in preparation for the rush of Christmas Fayre's in the next two weeks. I had set Mike to work with detailed, explicit instructions on how they were to be decorated, if they were meant to be. Most of the time, I had him lacquer them instead.

Even if Mike and I didn't have that much money, we would always decorate as big as we could. Dried fruit and homemade decorations if we had to, but that was always the best bit I think. Well, when they turned out alright at least. Paper snowflakes and glitter everywhere, even in Mike's moustache. _Geez, just thinking about it makes me feel excited._ I thought happily. Someone whispered back, _You are so sad it's pathetic._

* * *

><p>Mike is such a liar – Mr Saltzman was out and about in the town centre Sunday morning. <em>Can't believe I listened to that old fool,<em> I grumbled, watching him stroll along the sidewalk. The History teacher looked fine, maybe a bit troubled and grey like he was ill, but nothing that screamed 'I've just killed someone'.

He met up with Elena, both walking comfortably to her new flashy car and drive off. See, they were both fine and sort-of happy, just like any normal family – not harbouring a psychopath. I picked up empty coffee cups off the table, looking at them wistfully. I had Mike, and I love the idiot, I really do – but I missed Dad. I missed him more than I should, and more than I cared to admit. Even if he was blunt and sharp, missed birthdays and was always late to pick me up from school. I missed him, and it was always worst this time of year.

I would always see families; wrapped in matching scarves and jumpers, laughing, all carrying giant bags brimming with Christmas shopping. I wanted that, though I don't think all the money in the world and the threat of death could get either Mike or Dad to do any of those. The closest I would probably get was a smile and one of _those_ looks after I'd wrap a string of tinsel around their neck.

_Only a few more days until December... Eeeh!_ I was very, very excited if you couldn't tell. The town was strangely empty, Mayor Lockwood presenting the official start point of the restoration of Wickery Bridge so most had gone along to that. I don't really know why, it was just an old bridge – the Mayor wasn't serving drinks and a buffet after her speech. A pretty redhead I had never seen came in earlier, ordering a coffee with cream, she was nice but aloof, which is what is known as the 'perfect' customer. I'm glad my Dad's not in town, I have no desire for a new stepmother, and that woman fit the bill perfectly.

I texted Rebekah a few times after my shift, still no replies from any of the others. I huffed, pocketing my phone and walked home. Yes, I was annoyed, but I couldn't blame her. _Maybe I could go over to hers later,_ I mused but struck down that idea. _Don't come off as a stalker or one of those friends that turn up uninvited. That's weird._ No, if she texted me, I would text back, but I wouldn't go to her house. Spend the night doing homework I'd put off, enjoying my time with Mike, or as best I could or even lurking in the basement, I still had more work to create.

Mike had ordered take-out. That was a nice surprise for dinner. Nothing beat hot, greasy, cheesy pizza on a cold evening and watching some football match. If you're wondering, I had absolutely no idea who was playing who. It wasn't as good as I thought it would have been. Though the old man had been happy that the people in red had won.

"I'm going underground," I told him, getting off the sofa, picking up my used plate and his, and clearing up the boxes in the kitchen when I got there. The senior bobbed his head, eyes still glued to the screen as the commentators went wild, shouting and screaming. I had tuned them out after the first time one of the men almost scored a touchdown and they went mental.

I preferred the silence and solitude over the racket the TV was making, rattling out figures and statistics and names that I didn't know about. The basement was my haven, filled with trinkets and secret goods waiting to be sold. We would need the extra cash – it always helped around this time of year.

What I wasn't expecting three hours later was a sharp rapping at the door. I paused for a moment, sandpaper stilling in my hand, and upstairs the TV was muted. _We don't get visitors. Who on earth is there?_ The sofa springs squeaked, and I heard Mike shuffle towards the door. As quietly as I could, I ran up the stairs, listening carefully. The front door creaked. Mike and the unknown person at the door mumbled and murmured. _Come on ears, I need to know who's there!_

The basement door jumped open and I jumped back, stumbling down a few steps, catching myself before I took a proper tumble down the stairs. Mike raised an eyebrow at me as if to say, _'What the hell were you doing?'_ I glared at him in return, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"You got a visitor," He said nonchalantly. I blinked. _Visitor?_ If he's talking about Dad, I'm gonna smack him for not giving me a proper warning. With sirens and flashing lights... the lot would be needed if my father showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night. He squeezed into the doorjamb to let me pass him, and I peered around the doorframe to see whoever was at the door.

It was Rebekah.

I blinked again and gulped as she surveyed me coolly, but not arrogantly. I glanced over at Mike in a panic, and he gave me a mini-shrug. Absent-mindedly, I ran a hand through my hair. I didn't want her here. I wanted her to text me, or call me, and ask me to come over to her house, not show up at mine. My house was Hagrid's hut compared to her Hogwarts. And now she showed up here?! How does she know where I live? _Elijah visited, and you weren't complaining!_ Someone screamed, and I paled. Oh God he did. I was too busy swooning at how romantic it had all been. Suddenly, it wasn't as romantic anymore, knowing it was taking place just outside my house. _Damn._

Rebekah was looking everywhere, taking everything in but wasn't too outwardly critical. But her nose was crinkling slightly, bottom lip moving in minuscule movements. It was almost imperceptible. Almost. I sighed mentally. _I think I've just blown it with Rebekah._ My house was embarrassing, and cringe-worthy, and dinky compared to everyone else's in Mystic Falls. Even Matt Donovan had a bigger house than me.

I inched over to the door, cringing when I noticed her eyes were currently focusing on the slightly peeling wallpaper just behind my head. _This is so not going right_. I cleared my throat and her dark blue eyes snapped back to me, and she smiled slightly. I think I returned it, but it probably came out closer to a grimace. "Hi Rebekah," I said, my voice breaking in the middle and I cursed mentally. _God, I'm not a guy, body stop doing that in front of important people like Mikaelsons._

The blonde nodded. "Can I come in?" She asked, a strange note of wariness as she eyed the doorframe. I shivered from the draft and looked back at Mike. He shrugged, slouching back into the living room, the sound blaring back from the TV, but a little quieter than before. I bit my lip. If I invited her in, we would either go to my room, or the basement and I don't think either would appeal her to me. Though, if I turned her away, I definitely wouldn't appeal to her.

Rebekah seemed to sense my hesitation. "Please," She pleaded, and I nodded, opening the door wider. She still waited patiently.

_Does she want me to say it?_ "Come in," I mumbled and she smiled brightly, taking a large step inside, though the smile faded as she glanced around again. Rolling my eyes, I closed the door, and crossed my arms over my chest, walking past her and around to the basement door. "We can talk down here." The moment those words passed my lips, I realised how crazy and homicidal-maniac that sounded but Rebekah didn't seem fazed. _Maybe she really is my friend, accepting all my flaws._ Part of me rolled her eyes. _Or she knows she could beat you to a pulp any day. A three year old could fight you off._

I flicked the fairy light switch on my way down and swung down into a bean bag. The cheerleader looked amazed. "Wow..." She breathed, and I flushed with pride. _She likes this place? Really? Well, it is the only nice place in this house._ She looked up at the fairy lights above us, looking a little entranced. I had recently gotten bored during a late night sanding session, and decided to curl left-over tissue paper around the white lights, so now they were all different colours, casting different coloured spots along the walls.

I had also tidied it recently, which I thanked my lucky stars for. Anything for sale had been packed and stored away, other projects up on tables or tucked into corners neatly. The drying rack, sometimes known as a freezer, was piled high with children's toys, waiting for Christmas Eve, and our annual trek to Mystic Falls Hospital and Nursery.

I nodded, pulling at my sleeves. "This is my hobby room I guess. My favourite place of the house." I murmured and she looked at me funnily for a moment. I frowned, stiffening. "What?"

"I'm sorry." I froze. Those were not the words I was expecting. The most likely in my mind was 'Is this actually your house?' or 'How can you live here'. Apologies hadn't even made the list.

The cheerleader sighed and turned to face me again, leaning closer a little. "I'm sorry," She repeated, her black leather jacket rustled when she turned, and smelt faintly of smoke. _Smoke? That might not be Rebekah Sarah, just Mike._

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. "Why?" I asked, and she looked sadly at me. _Was she sorry because I lived here? What?_

"I have been a terrible friend this week." She said, and I wanted to cut her off, but she gave me a look and continued. "My family left yes, but I shouldn't have abandoned you. That was wrong and I'm sorry. I thought I should spend time with others, build new bridges so to speak, but I guess I'd already burnt them." She laughed a watery laugh, and she looked close to tears. Not the same tears that I saw when she asked me around to the Salvatore Boarding house, but true, painful tears.

"Did you know I chased Damon Salvatore?" She looked down at her hands. They were shaking slightly. "And I slept with him. Twice." She added and my eyebrows rose. _Whoa..._ "I don't know why, I wanted to feel special, feel loved and wanted..." Rebekah sniffed, and I grimaced with her. I could sympathise. "But it turns out he used me. Used me to get to Klaus, to get to Elena... I hate this." She pounded her fist against the floor and I jumped.

"I want people to see me for me, y'know? Not because I'm a Mikaelson, or because I'm Klaus' sister. Me as me." She said, and looked up at me. Tears had spilled down her beautiful face and my heart bled. "Then, I realised something... You always have." I was rooted to the spot, staring at the crying girl. Her voice and turned and shaky and broken, tears taking away the power in her words, but some still remained.

"You are one of the few friends in my lifetime that had no ulterior motives. You make me feel loved and wanted... in a different way to what I wanted that imbecile Damon Salvatore to make me feel obviously, but you are my friend. Why?" She asked brokenly and I smiled weakly, my lips forming a thin line.

I didn't know how to answer any other way but truthfully and I didn't think she would actually like the answer. I went for it anyway. "Because you're so much like me. Distant family members, a brave face for the public, and you looked so lonely when we first met. You reminded me of me." I answered honestly, and I felt my eyes getting hot. _Why am I crying? Rebekah is the one meant to be crying, not me! I'm trying to comfort her!_

Rebekah smiled back, and sniffed loudly. "Impromptu sleepover?" I asked her, and she nodded vehemently. Suddenly, she lunged at me, curling her arms around my back, and her sobs began truly. Instinctively, my arms went around her as well, cradling the teenager as she cried and I rubbed her back soothingly. _Oh Rebekah, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry for what he did._


End file.
